My blood went cold.
“Useful?”
“I didn’t know she meant violence.”
“Did you ask?”
“No.”
Silence.
There it was.
Another moment when not asking became a choice.
I stood.
Martin looked terrified.
“Gloria.”
“I have nothing else to say today.”
I walked toward the door.
Then turned.
“One question.”
“Yes.”
“If Trevor had not hit me, would you have told me?”
Martin could have lied.
He didn’t.
“I don’t know.”
That answer ended thirty-two years of partnership more completely than any stolen dollar.
CHAPTER 5 — THE EMPLOYEE THEY THOUGHT WAS TOO QUIET TO NOTICE HAD BEEN COPYING THEIR EMAILS FOR SIX MONTHS
Martin’s archive was not the only evidence.
The most important witness turned out to be Ana Morales.
My executive assistant.
Twenty-six years at Cedarline.
Five feet two inches tall.
Widowed.
Three grandchildren.
She kept emergency almonds in her desk and could identify any project manager’s mood by how hard he closed a filing cabinet.
