“We’ll double-check those logbooks during the afternoon break,” Tiffany said, half rising from her chair to pass the buyers three fresh glossy folders.

“Garrett’s been taking on way too much detail work lately.”

The lead buyer took his folder without looking at me.

“Let’s move on to section four, the liability waivers.”

The wall clock read eleven forty-five when the three men picked up their leather briefcases and filed out toward the elevator.

I waited until the heavy oak door clicked shut before I got up from my chair.

“You took my name off the cash reserve account at First Tennessee,” I said.