“Did you draft this agreement, Julian?” I asked, looking past Clara straight at my husband.

Julian took a red marker from his shirt pocket and tapped the plastic cap against the corner of his desk.

“The bank manager has your signed authorization slip in his safe, Audrey,” Julian said.

“You have until three o’clock to sign that release, or Martha Gable can read about your theft in the county paper.”

“I’m taking my personal tax files,” I said, moving two steps closer to the desk drawer.

“Those files are part of the company accounting records now,” Julian said, stepping right between me and the metal cabinet.