“That’s fine,” Daniel said.

“The desk and storage boxes are all I need.”

He signed his name on the deputy’s digital tablet and handed the stylus back.

Ava looked up at him as he stepped toward the driver’s side of his car.

“Are you coming to my track meet on Friday?” Ava asked.

“I’ll text you tomorrow, Ava,” Daniel said.

He didn’t look back at the house or at me as he got into the sedan and drove down the street toward the highway.

At two o’clock that afternoon, I met Rebecca Sloan in her fifth-floor conference room in downtown Denver.