“My apartment?” she whispered.

“You can’t go into my apartment.”

Daniel leaned closer to me, his eyes fixed on Sloane’s reaction.

“She has duplicate records there,” Daniel whispered.

“I’ve been tracking her IP address for weeks.”

“She didn’t trust Graham to keep his mouth shut, so she kept her own copies of the forged ledgers.”

“And the Whitmore offices?” I asked.

“That’s where the actual forgery took place,” Daniel said.

“They have a high-resolution scanner and signature replication software on the third floor.”

“If the police get in there tonight, they’ll find the digital templates of your mother’s signature.”

I looked back at my husband.

Graham was sweating through his bespoke suit jacket.

His hands were shaking as he tried to dial a number on his phone.

One of the investigators stepped onto the stage and gently but firmly took the device from Graham’s hand.

“Hey, you can’t do that,” Graham protested, his voice weak.

“This is my personal phone.”

“It is evidence in an active grand larceny investigation, Mr. Hart,” the investigator replied.

Rachel walked over to the investigator, handing him a printed document from her briefcase.