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“It is,” I say. “But we also have questions he isn’t expecting.”

Cassie takes the chair beside mine and brings out Connor’s book. She opens it to the numbers and smooths the page with two fingers. Reid looks at the writing.

“I can make copies if you’d rather keep the book put away,” he says.

“Let him see Connor’s handwriting,” she replies. “I want to see his reaction.”

Reid nods and goes to get water for the table. When he leaves, I move my chair closer to Cassie’s.

“Rick may know what those numbers mean,” I tell her. “He may also need time to decide what he wants us to believe.”

“I’m counting on the second part.”

Faint shadows sit beneath her eyes, but her hand is firm on the open book. Last night she trusted me in a way I hadn’t expected. This morning she’ll have to decide what to make of a man her brother trusted for years.

“I’ll ask about the forged documents first,” I say. “Then you can show him the numbers.”

“Okay.”

A knock sounds at the door before I can answer. Tessa steps in to tell me Rick’s car has arrived. I stand, and Cassie closes the book without hiding it.

Rick Whitmore enters with a leather folder beneath one arm and raindrops on the shoulders of his navy coat. His silver hair is neat, his shoes polished, and his expression has the mild concern he uses so well with clients. He reaches for my hand, then sees Cassie beside the table.

“Cassie.” His hand drops before he offers it to me. “I didn’t realize you would be here.”

“I asked her to join us,” I state.

Rick looks between us and recovers his smile. “Of course. I’m glad to see you, Cassie, though I wish it were under better circumstances.”

“So do I,” she says.

He takes the chair across from her. Reid closes the office door and sits beside me. Through the window, workers move between the rows below us. Rick glances out once, then places his folder on the table.

“I reviewed the pages Reid sent over,” he says. “The invoices appear to have been altered, but I can’t confirm how they entered the loan files until our team finishes its review.”

“Who has that review?” I ask.

“Our internal fraud department. I’ve requested an update.”

“And you haven’t seen the original submission records?”

“Not yet.” Rick folds his hands above his folder. “Your company’s name has been used without authorization. I understand why you want answers.”

“I want the source of every document bearing our name,” I tell him. “I also want to know who approved the loans they supported.”

Rick’s smile thins. “That involves confidential client records.”

“It involves my business.”

“I’m aware. Our counsel will determine what we can release.” He opens his folder and draws out a sheet of notes. “For now, I can assure you the bank takes this seriously.”

Reid slides one forged invoice across the table. “This lists equipment we’ve never purchased, delivered to a facility we don’t own. It was accepted as support for a commercial loan. Someone at the bank can tell us who submitted it.”

“I’ve asked the same question,” Rick says.

He answers without looking down at the invoice. He has prepared for Reid and me. When Cassie opens Connor’s book, I see the first break in his composure. His eyes move to the page, then return to her.

“Connor wrote these,” she says, turning the book so Rick can see the five account numbers. “Do you recognize them?”