Douglas Hayes, sixty-two, took off his reading glasses and polished them with a gray microfiber cloth before laying them on the mahogany table.

He picked up the blue wire transfer sheet Sadie had rescued from the desk.

“This isn’t a standard bank carbon,” Douglas said, leaning in close under his desk lamp with a brass magnifying glass.

“This is an internal draft from First Merchants.”

He held the page up to the overhead light.

“Look at the slant on the capital V in Valerie,” Douglas said.

“Your real legal signature stays level along the baseline.