I called Howard back the moment I'd processed what he'd said, though I'd only hung up thirty seconds before.

"I need everything," I said.

"The agency registration.

The staffing contract.

Whatever paperwork your office has from when Kelsey Donahue was placed with you."

"Ellen, if what we're looking at is what I think it is—"

"Then I need the documents.

All of them.

Tonight if possible."

He emailed them within the hour.

I sat at the kitchen table with my laptop and went through every page.

The staffing agency — *Crestline Professional Placement* — had been registered in the state eighteen months ago.

Director: Gregory Paul Mercer.

Address: a mailbox service in a strip mall twenty minutes from where Sarah and Greg had been living.

Greg had created a fake staffing agency.

He had used it to place a woman named Kelsey Donahue inside Howard's law office.

Kelsey Donahue was almost certainly related to Daniel Mercer — the name on the business card, the name above the door of the estate research firm.

A family operation.

Greg had paid them to get someone inside, copy what they needed from Richard's file, and feed it back to him.

He had been planning this for a year and a half.

Not Sarah.

Greg.

Sarah had been his instrument, not his partner.

I thought about her voice on the phone.

*He found Mercer.

He made the appointment.

He told me what to say.* She hadn't known about the agency.

She hadn't known about Kelsey.

She had known only what Greg had chosen to tell her — which was enough to make her complicit but not enough to make her dangerous.

Greg had been careful about that.

I called my attorney back.

"Can this be reported?" I asked.

"Unauthorized access to confidential legal documents through deception is a serious matter," Howard said.

"Depending on what Kelsey Donahue actually copied or transmitted, we may be looking at violations of attorney-client privilege, potential fraud, possibly more.

I'd want to speak with a colleague who handles this area before I say anything definitive.

But yes.

This can be reported."

"Then let's report it."

"Ellen.

Sarah's husband."

"I know."

"This will affect her directly."

"I know that too." I looked at the documents on my screen.

"She came to me tonight and told me the truth.

She didn't know about the agency.

She didn't know about the placement.

She was scared and he used that.

I'm not going to protect him because of who he married."

A pause.

"All right.

I'll make some calls in the morning."

I closed the laptop and sat in the quiet kitchen for a long time.

Greg had walked through my newly renovated kitchen with a coffee mug in his hand, looking at it like it already belonged to him.

He had sent me a threatening text at eleven at night.

He had built a fake company, placed a spy in my attorney's office, and coached my daughter into confronting me in a diner while he sat back and waited to see what fell loose.

And he had done all of this while lying to Sarah about having a job.

My phone buzzed.

A text from Sarah.

*Greg left tonight.

He took his car and two bags.

He said he needed space to think.

I don't know where he went.*

I read it twice.

Then I typed back: *Are you safe?*

Her reply came fast.

*Yes.

I'm at the apartment.

I'm okay.*

*Good.

Thursday still stands.

Get some sleep.*

I set the phone down.

Greg leaving wasn't an accident.

He knew I'd been recording at the restaurant.

He knew Sarah had called me.

He was calculating again — figuring out what I knew, deciding whether to run or regroup.

What he didn't know was that by morning, Howard would have already made the first call.