Marcus was shouting at Daniel, his face red and his chest puffing out.

Evelyn was leaning against the hood of the truck, her face buried in her hands.

Daniel looked smaller than he ever had, his shoulders slouched, his hands hanging limp at his sides.

“Drive, Harris,” I said.

The SUV shifted into gear, the tires crunching slowly over the gravel as we backed out of the driveway.

I didn’t look back as we turned onto the main road, the headlights of the house fading into the darkness of the Colorado night.

I pulled my secure phone out of my pocket and dialed Sarah’s direct line.

She answered on the first ring.

“General Mercer,” Sarah said, her voice professional and crisp.

“Sarah,” I said. “What did you find in the joint account?”

There was a brief pause on the other end, the sound of papers rustling or a keyboard tapping.

“We started the forensic audit of your personal and joint accounts as soon as you authorized it this morning,” Sarah said.

“And?” I prompted.