The stenographer’s fingers began to click against the keys.

“This is the deposition of Nolan Pierce in the matter of Hartwell v. Pierce,” Sarah began.

She went through the standard disclosures, her voice steady and rhythmic.

Nolan stared at me the entire time.

I didn’t look away.

“Mr. Pierce,” Sarah said, leaning forward.

“Let’s talk about the transfer of twelve million dollars from the Hartwell Civic Group account on October 14th.”

“Who authorized that transfer?”

Nolan cleared his throat.

“My wife did,” he said, looking at me.

“She was concerned about the tax implications of the trust.”

“She asked me to move it to our joint holding company.”

“And did she sign the authorization form in your presence?” Sarah asked.

“Yes,” Nolan said.

“In our kitchen.”

“On the morning of the twelfth.”

I reached into my folder and pulled out a single sheet of paper.

I slid it across the glass table toward him.

“Mr. Pierce,” I said, my voice quiet but clear in the silent room.

“This is the log from the security gate of our neighborhood.”