"Caroline Whitmore sits on the board of the Eastborough Civic Foundation."

"So?"

"The foundation received city grants."

"How much?"

"Two point six million."

Simone slowly sat down.

"And?"

"We can't account for nearly seven hundred thousand."

Maya noticed her mother's expression.

"What?"

Simone held up one finger.

Marcus continued.

"We were planning to request records tomorrow."

Simone closed her eyes.

Of all the people in the state.

Of all the department stores.

Of all the Saturday afternoons.

"You've seen the video, haven't you?" Marcus asked.

"Unfortunately."

"You want me to reassign the case?"

Simone considered it.

Her personal encounter with Caroline created an obvious appearance problem.

"Yes."

"Completely?"

"Put Amelia Chen in charge. I don't make investigative decisions regarding the Whitmores from this point forward."

"Understood."

"And document the reassignment."

"Already drafting it."

Simone smiled.

"That's why I hired you."

Marcus hesitated.

"There's one problem."

"What?"

"The warrant application was approved Friday."

Simone's stomach tightened.

"When are they executing it?"

"Tomorrow morning."

"Where?"

"Whitmore Development headquarters."

Simone looked at the clock.

Marcus continued.

"And the Whitmore residence."

Simone sighed.

The universe, apparently, had a sense of humor.

Caroline spent Sunday hiding inside her house.

She had watched the video seventeen times.

Each time she looked worse.

She had tried explaining herself to friends.

"I genuinely thought she was stealing."

Most offered uncomfortable sympathy.

One asked:

"But why?"

Caroline couldn't answer.

Not convincingly.

Her husband Richard was furious.

Not because of what she'd done.

Because of the attention.

"We have reporters outside the office."

"I didn't know someone was filming."

"That's not the point!"

Richard paced across their living room.

"You called the police on a woman without seeing her steal anything!"

"I was trying to help."

"You always say that."

Caroline stared at him.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

Richard stopped.

"Nothing."

"No. Say it."

He didn't.

Instead he picked up his phone.

Caroline looked at the television.

A news anchor was discussing Simone.

Then her biography appeared.

Caroline read the words beneath Simone's photograph.

DR. SIMONE BENNETT — DEPUTY INSPECTOR GENERAL

Her face went pale.

"Richard."

He looked at the screen.

Then froze.

"You knew who she was?"

"No."

Caroline turned toward him.

"Richard?"

He was no longer angry.

He looked frightened.

And suddenly Caroline understood that something much bigger than a viral video was wrong.

"What aren't you telling me?"

Richard didn't answer.

At 6:12 the next morning, someone pounded on their front door.

Caroline came downstairs wearing a robe.

Richard was already in the hallway.

Through the glass, she saw police vehicles.

Federal agents.

Investigators.

One officer held a document.

Richard whispered:

"Oh God."

Caroline looked at him.

"What did you do?"

He didn't answer.

The knocking came again.

"Search warrant!"

Caroline's world began to collapse.

And for the second time in three days, police had arrived because someone believed a crime had occurred.

Only this time, the evidence was real.

Simone did not attend the search.

She deliberately stayed away.

Amelia Chen, the senior attorney assigned to the investigation, supervised everything.

By noon, investigators had seized computers, financial records, phones, invoices, and encrypted drives from Whitmore Development.

At the Whitmore residence, they found something unexpected.

A locked filing cabinet in Richard's private study.

Inside were financial statements connected to the Eastborough Civic Foundation.

Caroline's signature appeared repeatedly.

That complicated everything.

At 2:00 p.m., Marcus entered Simone's office.

"You're going to want to see this."

Simone looked up.

"I thought I was recused."

"You are. I'm not asking you to make a decision."

He placed a document on her desk.

"I'm showing you because your name appears in it."

Simone frowned.

The document was an email.

Richard Whitmore had sent it to Councilman Pierce six months earlier.

The final paragraph read:

Bennett's office is asking questions. If this gets worse, we may need pressure from the governor's side.

Simone read it twice.

"They knew about our investigation."

"Apparently."

"How?"

"We're working on it."

"Does Caroline know?"

"We don't know."

Simone handed the document back.

"Then don't assume she does."

Marcus nodded.

That was Simone's rule.

Evidence first.

Assumptions second.

Never reverse the order.

Ironically, it was the exact lesson Caroline had failed to follow in the department store.

By Tuesday, investigators had enough evidence to identify a sophisticated kickback scheme.

Whitmore Development inflated public construction invoices.

Subcontractors received excessive payments.

A portion of those payments traveled through consulting companies and nonprofit organizations.

The money eventually returned to officials responsible for approving contracts.

Richard Whitmore appeared near the center.

But Caroline's role remained unclear.

Her signature appeared on foundation documents.

Yet many transactions occurred electronically from accounts Richard controlled.

Was she involved?

Careless?

Manipulated?

Or deliberately ignorant?

Those questions required evidence.

Not instinct.

Caroline sat across from two investigators Wednesday afternoon.

Her attorney sat beside her.

She looked exhausted.

"Mrs. Whitmore," Amelia Chen said, "do you recognize this account?"

Caroline looked at the document.

"Yes."

"Eastborough Civic Foundation?"

"I'm on the board."

"You're treasurer."

"Technically."