“I’ve been tracking the bank accounts he opened in my name,” Melanie said, her voice dropping even lower.

She looked around the diner to ensure the waitress was out of earshot.

“There are large sums of money moving through those accounts,” she said. “Amounts that don’t make sense for a partner’s salary.”

My phone stopped vibrating, then immediately began to buzz again.

This time, it wasn’t a call.

It was a text message from Chloe.

I picked up the phone and flipped it over.

The message preview appeared on the lock screen.

*Anne, please answer. I’m at the Denver office. Lucas is packing his desk. I think he’s leaving today.*

I stared at the screen, my thumb hovering over the glass.

Outside, the gray Denver drizzle smeared the diner’s front window.

“What is it?” Melanie asked.

“Chloe,” I said, my voice barely a draft. “She says Lucas is packing his desk at the office. She thinks he’s leaving today.”

Melanie’s eyes hardened.

She did not look surprised.

She slowly lifted her palm from the paper she had been shielding.

“Then he knows the walls are closing in,” she said.