“Rebecca was in Austin for her sister’s wedding that week,” I said, my voice dropping.

“She left Tuesday morning and didn’t get back until Sunday night.”

Dale stacked the sheets together, squaring the edges into a perfect pile before sliding them into a brown envelope.

“The numbers don’t lie, Raymond, but people certainly do,” Dale said, looking me straight in the eye without blinking.

He pushed the brown envelope across the mahogany desk until it touched my hand.

“Does anybody else have admin credentials for that home network?” I asked.