The luxury resort, the private boat charter, the high-end spa.

“It appears they were living quite large,” Daniels noted dryly. “Indeed.” But as my eyes scanned past the recent Mexican charges, my breath hitched.

A bizarre anomaly glared up at me from the ledger. Electronic Transfer – $8,000 – Recipient: External Acct #4492 The timestamp was from three weeks ago.

I frowned, leaning closer to the display. “That shouldn’t be there.” “What is it?” Ruiz asked, his cop instincts flaring. “I didn’t authorize an eight-thousand-dollar wire transfer.”

I clicked the filter to show only external electronic transfers for the current fiscal year. The screen cascaded with data. $6,000. $4,500. $9,200. Different dates.

Varied amounts. All approved electronically. All siphoned cleanly from my primary account. A heavy, icy pressure clamped down on my chest. The betrayal wasn’t just a spontaneous flight to Cancun.