"Original records. Bank logs. Independent verification of the signatures. And witnesses who can establish how the transactions were processed."
Tommy raised his hand slightly.
"I may be able to help with the technical side."
Evelyn looked at him.
"Are you a forensic accountant?"
"No."
"Then don't access any private bank systems."
Tommy nodded.
"I wasn't planning to."
"Good. I don't want anyone contaminating evidence or giving the defense an excuse to challenge it."
She turned to Mara.
"Can you identify the people responsible for maintaining the records?"
"Yes."
"Names?"
Mara hesitated.
"Victor Hale. He was the regional financial coordinator."
Gabriel's jaw tightened.
Evelyn noticed.
"Something wrong?"
Gabriel explained Victor's previous position in the Iron Vultures.
The sheriff looked at him for a long moment.
"Was he involved in the club's finances?"
"He was our treasurer for almost four years."
"Why did he leave?"
"An argument. He claimed I was spending too much money helping members who had fallen on hard times."
"Was that true?"
Gabriel looked toward Walter.
"No. I was spending club money on things the members had voted to support. Victor wanted control of the accounts."
"Did he steal anything?"
"We couldn't prove it."
Evelyn wrote something in her notebook.
"That's important."
Gabriel looked uncomfortable.
"I should have looked harder."
Walter shook his head.
"You can't spend your life blaming yourself for someone else's dishonesty."
Gabriel didn't respond.
Evelyn closed the folder.
"I'm going to contact the county prosecutor. Until then, everyone needs to be careful."
She looked directly at Gabriel.
"And I mean everyone."
He nodded.
As the sheriff left, Walter watched her cruiser disappear down the driveway.
"Do you trust her?" he asked.
Gabriel nodded.
"Yes."
"Good."
"Why?"
"Because we're going to need someone who doesn't care whether we're wearing leather jackets or expensive suits."
That afternoon, Ruth Miller received a visitor.
Walter had called ahead to warn her that they had discovered something important.
She opened the door wearing a blue cardigan.
"Mr. Briggs."
"Afternoon, Ruth."
She looked behind him.
Gabriel and Mara were standing beside the truck.
"Come in."
Walter placed the forged document on her kitchen table.
Ruth read it once.
Then again.
Her hands began trembling.
"James signed this?"
"No," Mara said gently.
"He died in February."
"I know."
"Then how..."
Ruth looked at the date.
The document was dated August.
Six months after her husband had died.
She sank into a chair.
"Who would do this?"
Walter sat opposite her.
"That's what we're trying to find out."
Ruth stared at the paper.
For a moment, she looked as though she might cry.
Then she stood abruptly and walked toward a cabinet.
She returned with a small wooden box.
"My husband kept everything."
She opened it.
Inside were old photographs, receipts, letters, and several notebooks.
Ruth searched through them.
Then she found a small envelope.
"This was his handwriting."
She handed it to Walter.
The envelope contained a letter addressed to James's lawyer.
It described a conversation he had held with a bank representative several months before his death.
The representative had asked whether James would consider selling the farm.
James had refused.
He had written that he suspected the bank was working with a developer to acquire land near the railway corridor.
Ruth read the letter again.
"I didn't know he was worried about this."
Walter looked at her.
"Did he mention anyone by name?"
She shook her head.
"He said there were people asking questions. He didn't want me involved."
Mara examined the letter.
"Look at the date."
It had been written four months before James died.
At the bottom, James had added a final sentence.
If anything happens to me, make sure Ruth never signs anything without independent legal advice.
Ruth pressed the letter against her chest.
"Why didn't he tell me?"
Walter spoke quietly.
"Maybe he was trying to protect you."
She closed her eyes.
For several seconds, the kitchen was silent.
Then she looked up.
"Can I help?"
Gabriel nodded.
"We need to know who met with your husband."
Ruth thought carefully.
"There was a man named Victor."
Gabriel stiffened.
"Victor Hale?"
"I think so."
"What did he look like?"
"Dark hair. Tall. A scar near his left eyebrow."
Gabriel looked at Walter.
It was definitely Victor.
Ruth continued.
"He came here twice. The second time, James told him to leave."
"Did you hear what they argued about?"
"Not everything. But I remember James saying, 'You can't make people disappear just because their names are inconvenient.'"
Mara looked at Gabriel.
The words seemed to settle heavily over the table.
"Did James keep anything else?" she asked.
Ruth nodded slowly.
"He had a little office in the barn."
Walter looked toward the window.
"Can we see it?"
Ruth hesitated.
Then she stood.
"Come with me."
The barn smelled of old wood, hay, and dust.