His collar was tight, and sweat beaded along his hairline.

“Emerson, tell them to back off,” Michael said, looking at me.

I did not answer him.

I kept my eyes on Helen’s phone.

“The transfer failed, Helen,” I said.

“The Navy Federal fraud unit froze the account three minutes ago.”

Helen’s shoulders stiffened.

She slowly turned around, her face pale under the harsh foyer lights.

“You did this,” she whispered.

“You always try to ruin everything your father built.”

“Father didn’t build a slush fund out of my survivor benefits,” I said.

The second NCIS agent, a tall woman with her hair pulled back in a tight bun, produced a folder from her jacket.

“Helen Rogers, you are under arrest,” the agent said.

“On what charges?” Helen demanded, her voice cracking.

“This is a public event. My husband was a decorated officer.”

“A federal warrant was issued this morning by the Eastern District of Virginia,” Agent Vance said.

“The charge is grand larceny and embezzlement of federal military survivor benefits.”

He reached for his handcuffs.

The metal clicked in the quiet space of the foyer.