I got to Rachel’s office at three forty-five and walked straight through the lobby past two empty chairs.

Rachel didn’t look up from her desk when I opened her office door.

She lined up three yellow legal pads into a perfect stack, tapping their edges on the polished oak before setting her pen down.

“Tell me Mark didn’t contact you directly,” Rachel said.

“He changed the locks at eight this morning,” I said.

“He threw two boxes of kitchen utensils out the second-floor window.”

“Did you try to force your way in?”