“I know about the shell companies in the Cayman Islands,” I said. “And I know about the three million dollars missing from the pension advisory fund.”

Graham laughed, but the sound was hollow and dry.

He looked over his shoulder at Harrison.

“Do you hear this?” Graham asked. “She’s delusional.”

Harrison stepped forward and placed a hand on Graham’s shoulder.

“Let me see the papers, Raymond,” Harrison said.

Raymond slid a thick, blue-bound folder across the center of the table.

The paper slid with a soft whisper against the wood.

Harrison opened it, his fingers flipping through the pages with practiced speed.

The room was completely silent except for the rustle of the documents.

Outside, the gray Dallas sky seemed to press against the floor-to-ceiling windows.

A light rain began to pelt the glass.

I watched Harrison’s eyes scan the lines of text.

His movements slowed down.

He stopped turning the pages.

He went back to the third page, his thumb tracing a signature line.

“This is the debt purchase agreement from the Dallas Mercantile Bank,” Harrison whispered.