I sat on a wooden bench outside Courtroom Three with the green cloth ledger binder on my knees.

Mark Vance came out through the heavy double doors carrying his silk lens cloth and a yellow legal pad covered in tidy rows of figures.

“The prosecutor took the flash drive,” Mark said, sitting down next to me.

“The gray dropper bottle was still in Valerie’s desk drawer.

The lab matched the residue to the liquid from your thermos.”

“What are the charges?” I asked.

“Grand larceny over the payroll transfers,” Mark said, tapping a black pen on his yellow pad.