“I second the motion,” a senior board member at the far end of the table said without a moment’s pause.

“All those in favor,” Frank said.

Every hand at the table went up, Frank’s included.

Garrett didn’t raise his hand.

He dropped heavily into his high-backed executive chair, his arms lying flat on the polished armrests.

I walked to the head of the table, set my briefcase on the mahogany, and flipped open the brass latches.

I took out the green cloth ledger binder I’d locked away weeks before, along with the certified affidavits from the private investigator in East Dallas.

“Valerie Hayes,” I said, looking down at the accounting desk.