“He thinks I was hiding because I was ashamed, not because it was my job.”

Sarah tapped her pen against the table.

“The moment we hand these financial records to the federal prosecutor, the wheels will turn very fast.”

“He won’t just lose the house, Rachel.”

“He is looking at significant prison time.”

I looked out the window at the dark outline of the foothills.

The first flakes of snow were beginning to fall, drifting past the streetlights.

“Let the prosecutor prepare the warrant,” I said.

“But don’t file it yet.”

Sarah looked up, her pen stopping mid-air.

“Why?” she asked.

“Because he is going to realize what he did very soon,” I said.

“And I want him to know exactly how trapped he is before the handcuffs click shut.”

My phone vibrated against the wood of the table.

It was a different number this time, but the area code was local.

I did not answer it.

“He’s panicking,” I said.

“The bank must have frozen the remaining lines of credit after I revoked his access this afternoon.”

Sarah nodded, opening the second folder.