Richard pulled the vinyl armchair up to the edge of the bed and sat, resting his hands on his knees.

“Michael just walked me through the federal task force binder, Emily,” Richard said gently.

Emily pulled her sleeves down hard over her wrists, tucking the blue knit fabric beneath her palms.

“What did you copy off his computer on Thursday?” Richard asked.

“He was asleep downstairs in his recliner,” Emily said, her voice fading out…

“Did you go into his private study, then?” Richard asked.

“I had his master access code written on a slip of paper in my coat,” she whispered.