“What is it?” I asked, a sudden knot forming in my stomach.

“The deputy DA just called back,” Ana said.

“Mark’s ankle monitor just went offline.”

I felt my heart skip a beat. “What?”

“He cut it,” Ana said. “The police in Sacramento just arrived at the townhouse.”

“The back window was broken, and his car is gone.”

“He’s fled,” I said, the realization hitting me like a cold wave.

“Where would he go?” Ana asked, looking at me. “He has no access to his main bank accounts.”

“They’ve all been frozen by the court.”

I thought of my grandfather’s legacy, of Abigail’s stories about the family finances.

“The ledger,” I whispered.

“What ledger?” Ana asked.

“Abigail kept a physical book,” I said, my voice rising. “She told me about it when I was a teenager.”

“It has the physical keys and passwords for the offshore accounts in Grand Cayman.”

“She never digitized them because she didn’t trust computers.”

“Where is it?” Ana asked.

“At the Sonoma ranch,” I said. “In the old library behind the cedar paneling.”

“Mark knows about the offshore accounts, but he never found the book.”