I told her, low, that Jonathan had forged my signature on a commercial loan guarantee, four hundred and twelve thousand dollars, using my personal accounts as collateral.

She stopped tapping the pen.

“Are you certain of the signature?” The ink was still fresh, I said.

He must have signed it the afternoon I was at the market.

I need you to pull the corporate filings for Duncan Apex Holdings.

“Investigating the Duncans in this town is a quick way to lose your license,” Karina said, her eyes going once around the room before coming back to me.

“Jonathan’s mother has half the city council on her charity boards.” He is sending nine thousand dollars a month to a clinic in Portugal, I said, and the transfers started right after Rowena’s memorial service.