“And?”
“He denies harming you. He says you became upset after discovering he had moved funds to protect them from a bad investment. According to him, you slipped while trying to leave the kitchen.”
“That isn’t true.”
“I know what you told me.”
“Did you arrest him?”
Detective Ruiz’s expression became guarded.
“The investigation is ongoing.”
The answer frustrated me, though I understood it. Real life did not move with the satisfying speed of courtroom dramas. Evidence had to be reviewed. Statements compared. Procedures followed.
Garrett had spent years preparing to look innocent.
I had spent years helping him.
“What did he remove from the house?” I asked.
“We’re examining traffic cameras near the property.”
She hesitated.
“There is something else. Your husband told us the eighty-thousand-dollar transfer was authorized by you.”
“It wasn’t.”
“He provided a signed instruction.”
My body went still.
“Another forgery.”
“Perhaps.”
