“Four in favor,” Marcus said, writing quickly in his notepad. “None opposed. The motion carries unanimously.”

Grant’s face turned a pale, sickly green.

He lunged for the door, his fingers wrapping around the heavy brass handle.

The door swung inward before he could turn the knob.

Two state troopers in grey uniforms stood in the threshold, their boots wet from the storm.

Behind them stood Investigator Miller, her badge clipped to her belt and her coat dripping onto the Persian rug.

“Grant Caldwell?” one of the troopers asked.

Grant stepped back, his hands rising instinctively to his chest.

“I have my lawyers on the way,” Grant said.

“You can call them from the station,” the trooper said, stepping into the room. “You are under arrest for grand larceny, embezzlement, and conspiracy to commit financial fraud.”

The second trooper stepped forward, pulling a pair of steel handcuffs from his utility belt.

“Turn around and place your hands behind your back,” the trooper ordered.

Grant looked at me, his eyes wide with a mixture of rage and desperation.