I unclasped a manila folder and slid glossy, high-resolution copies of the trust amendment across the metal table until they bumped against his knuckles.

“You burned your wife alive for absolutely nothing,” I stated clinically. “You were never getting the insurance payout. Mom knew about Vanessa. She knew about the embezzlement. She legally removed you as the beneficiary six months ago.”

Vanessa’s head snapped toward him, her tear-streaked face twisting in sudden, vicious betrayal. “What? You promised me! You said the money was guaranteed! You said we’d be in Belize by Christmas!”

“Shut your mouth, V!” Arthur roared, slamming his fists on the table, the veneer of the stoic patriarch shattering into a million pieces.

I leaned forward, invading his space. “You stole four hundred thousand dollars from your own company to fund your pathetic affair. You forged the electrical and fire inspection reports to make sure the alarms wouldn’t sound. You bought eighty gallons of premium accelerant through Vanessa’s shell company to hide the paper trail. You deadbolted the rear exit so we couldn’t run, you pried open the main gas line, and you left us sleeping in a bomb.”

“That proves nothing!” Dad spat, spit flying from his lips, though heavy beads of terrified sweat now shone on his upper lip. “It’s circumstantial garbage! I’m Arthur Hale! I built a goddamn empire! You can’t touch me with some little spreadsheets!”