Wallace was wiping hot tea off his desk papers,” I said.

Miller stood up, pushed his notepad into his breast pocket, and smoothed his tie.

“I need you to sign a formal affidavit covering every time recorded in this ledger notebook.”

“I’ll sign whatever statement you print,” I said.

“I’m done hiding and I’m done running.

We go to the estate now.”

Detective Miller walked out to the main dispatch desk, said two quiet words to the desk sergeant, and four uniformed officers took their leather duty belts down from the wall hooks.

The clock on the dashboard of Pendelton’s sedan read 10:28 when we turned off the main highway onto Crest Road.