“I went back to the house after the ambulance left,” Chloe said, her voice barely a whisper.
She did not sit down.
Her right hand went to her neck, her fingers twisting the heavy silver necklace until the metal clicked against her collarbone.
“What is this, Chloe?” I asked.
“It’s everything,” she said.
She reached into the bassinet and pulled out a small black flash drive, holding it out toward Julian, who was sitting to my left.
“Mark’s personal backup files. The original templates he used to forge your signature on the subcontracting agreements for the Queens and Nassau projects.”
Julian adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses by the bridge and took the drive, holding it up to the fluorescent light.
“And the audio we heard on the speakerphone?” he asked.
“It’s on here too,” Chloe said, her eyes darting toward the floor.
“I recorded him using the second line on our family plan. The line David pays for. I set up the automatic recording app months ago because I didn’t trust what Mark was telling his partners. He didn’t know the line was active.”
