“Grant used her to sign the foreign bank disclosures,” Philip said. “He told her it was a trust fund for her future.”

“She has no idea she signed her name to a federal crime,” I said.

“She will when the FBI knocks on her door at dawn,” Lena said.

Just then, the glass doors of the conference room slid open.

The night receptionist stepped inside, holding a digital tablet against her chest.

“Nora,” she said, her voice hesitant. “There is someone downstairs in the lobby demanding to see you.”

“Who is it?” I asked.

“He wouldn’t give his name,” the receptionist said. “But he said to tell you he has the admin login credentials for the Lexington server.”

I looked at Lena, then at Philip.

“Is it Grant?” Philip asked, his voice cracking.

“No,” the receptionist said. “He’s much younger. He said he works for Daniel.”

My phone buzzed on the table.

An incoming call from an unknown number flashed on the screen.

I picked it up and pressed it to my ear, stepping away from the table.

“Nora,” a frantic voice whispered. “Don’t trust Philip’s drives.”