My chest tightened as I looked at the black-and-white photocopy Miller held up.

It showed a heavy oak chest with brass fittings, sitting on a concrete floor under harsh fluorescent lights.

I knew that chest.

It used to sit in our basement, locked, with the key kept on Scott’s keyring.

“He moved it three weeks ago,” I said, my voice steady despite the sudden rush of heat in my face.

“He did,” Miller agreed. “Along with three hundred thousand dollars’ worth of proprietary software design files.”

Jerome glanced at me, his expression sharpening.

“My client has had no access to that unit, Agent Miller,” Jerome said.

“We are currently in the middle of divorce proceedings, and she has been entirely cooperative.”

“I know,” Miller said, sliding the paper back into his folder.

“We aren’t here for her. We are here to establish that Mr. Collins acted alone in removing these assets before the company filed its audit.”

He handed Jerome a business card.

“We will need a formal statement from Mrs. Collins regarding when the chest was moved from the residence.”