“Where did you take these pictures, Rebecca?” I asked.

“From the hall closet with my old burner phone,” she said.

“The day before he threw my clothes onto the sidewalk in trash bags.”

She pointed at the third print, where Valerie was putting the gray bottle into her leather handbag on the counter.

“Garrett told her two drops every morning would keep you too foggy to read the monthly audit lines,” Rebecca said.

“Did you confront Garrett after you saw this?” I asked.