Through the window of my laptop, I quickly opened the browser tab for our Palm Springs property.

The sun was shining brightly in California, casting long shadows across the concrete pool deck.

On the screen, three black utility vehicles pulled up to the curb of the modern stucco house.

“Miller,” I said, looking at the investigator. “What is in that envelope?”

“Everything,” Miller said.

“The bank accounts in Melanie’s name that Lucas opened using her stolen security clearance.”

“The wire transfers from your joint accounts into his offshore shell company.”

“And the forged signature pages for the corporate restructuring.”

Chloe took a step forward, her eyes wide as she looked at the papers sticking out of the envelope.

“Lucas told me those accounts were for our future,” Chloe whispered, her voice cracking.

“He told me Anne was the one trying to ruin him.”

“Lucas lied to you, Chloe,” I said gently.

I looked back at the laptop screen.

In Palm Springs, uniform officers and plainclothes detectives were spilling out of the vehicles.

They moved quickly up the concrete steps toward the glass front doors of the desert home.