“And the delay?” Rosalie asked.

“Forty-five minutes, stamped at both ends.

Her lawyer’s office logged the call at seven fourteen.

911 got theirs at seven fifty-nine.”

Hale turned a page, and his thumb moved down the margin.

“The freeze landed at two forty Friday.

Monday morning at nine, there was a wire request sitting in the bank queue for a hundred and thirteen thousand dollars, three accounts, all pointed at a holding company in Savannah.

It dies where it sits.