The fifty-dollar bill lay in the exact middle of the glass, perfectly flat in the gray late afternoon light.

At nine sharp, David straightened the silk knot of his navy blue tie in the hall mirror.

He tucked a heavy manila envelope under his left arm and picked up his leather briefcase from the oak stand.

The manila envelope slid out from under his elbow and hit the floorboards with a dull thud, skidding two feet across the hall rug and stopping against my left boot.

I bent down before he could step forward.