I put page four back where it had been, closed the folder along its crease, and set the pie dish on top of it again.

Then I shifted the dish a quarter inch, so its corner cleared the grout line just the way it had when I found it.

I carried my water up the back stairs and didn’t glance at the counter again.

Marcus had the server file open before I even set my bag down.

The printer in the corner pulled through a page, then another, then groaned and quit.

“Coastal Commerce,” he said.