We waited.

Ten minutes passed.

Then twenty.

The silence in the room was heavy, thick with the anticipation of what was coming.

I pictured Lucas walking through the Palm Springs airport, his light jacket over his arm, his face relaxed and confident.

He would be smiling, thinking he had escaped the mess in Denver.

He would be thinking of the warm California air and the money waiting for him.

“Got a ping,” Reed’s voice cracked over the speaker.

We all leaned forward.

“Is it him?” Arthur asked.

“An authorized login attempt from a residential IP address in Palm Springs,” Reed said. “He’s using the Melanie Harper credentials.”

“Did he access the escrow folder?” Sarah Lin asked, her pen hovering over her notepad.

“He’s in,” Reed said. “He’s viewing the balance now.”

My breath hitched in my throat.

On my laptop screen, the digital ledger seemed to hum with silent energy.

“He’s initiating the transfer,” Reed said, his voice dropping a register. “Target account is a private commercial bank in Zurich.”

“Let him do it,” Detective Harris’s voice cut in. “Let the transaction hit the queue.”