“Who is that?” Gloria asked, her voice cracking.

She looked at the screen, then at her son.

Graham did not answer her.

He was staring at the blinking name, his mouth slightly open.

A single bead of sweat rolled down the side of his cheek, leaving a pale track through his expensive bronzer.

“Sterling,” Graham whispered, his hands flat on the table. “Don’t.”

“I have to, Graham,” Sterling said.

Sterling swiped the screen and put the call on speaker.

The room was so quiet I could hear the faint hum of the air conditioning unit outside the window.

“Sterling?” a voice said from the speaker, crisp and clear. “This is Miller. We’ve finished reviewing the bank signatures.”

Gloria leaned forward, her knuckles white as she gripped the edge of the mahogany table.

“And?” Sterling asked.

“The notary stamp was fraudulent, and the signatures on the second lien documents do not match the trustee’s records,” Detective Miller said. “We have enough for an arrest warrant. Is Mr. Ralston still in your office?”

Graham let out a sharp, ragged breath.

He looked like he was going to vomit.