Marcus Vance sat behind a metal desk stacked with Preston’s financial history.

He was a thin man with wire-rimmed glasses and ink stains on his left thumb.

“Your husband is careful, Mrs. Hayes,” Vance said, tapping a pencil against a ledger. “But he is also vain.”

“What did you find?” I asked, leaning forward in my chair.

My hands were cold, clasped tightly in my lap.

“He hasn’t just been hiding money,” Vance said. “He has been stealing it.”

He turned a page, pointing to a column of figures printed in small, precise font.

“These are monthly transfers from the primary operating account of Hayes Enterprises,” Vance said.

“To where?” I asked.

“An entity called Blue Horizon Holdings,” Vance said. “Registered in the Cayman Islands.”

I shook my head. “I’ve never heard of it.”

“You wouldn’t have,” Vance said. “But look at the secondary transfers.”

He slid a second document across the desk toward me.

“From Blue Horizon, the funds were wired to a personal account at Manhattan Trust,” Vance explained.

The name on the account was Samantha Mercer.

I stared at the name, my chest tightening.