We went through as much of each transaction as she could remember, starting with the latest and working backward. She remembered more than she thought she would because a lot of what had happened was repetitious. Most of the answers were the same. Charlie’s secretary at the meat plant would set the meetings just as she would for Charlie and any other business associate. At the meetings, Charlie would tell Karen which of the eight First Chelam accounts the money should go into and into which of the two Barbados accounts it should be transferred. There were no receipts given and no statements mailed and nothing to prove that someone named Charlie DeLuca was either putting cash into the First Chelam Bank or moving money from one account to another. Karen assumed that someone in Barbados checked to make sure that the right amount of money was being fed into the accounts, but she wasn’t sure.

Somewhere in the middle of it, Toby came into the hall and looked at us with big eyes. “Mom?”

I said, “Hi, Tobe.” Mr. Bright and Cheery.

Karen put down her wine and gave him the Barbara Billingsley smile and went over to him. “Hey, pal, you get the homework done?” She’d had three or four glasses of wine by then, but she was doing okay.

“Unh-hunh.”

“You know Mr. Cole? And this is Mr. Pike, his associate.”

Toby smiled uneasily, knowing that something wasn’t right, that his mom didn’t get sauced and have late-night meetings with guys sporting tattoos and sunglasses to talk over wrap-around financing and short-term mortgage envelopes. He looked nervous. “You okay?”

She ran a hand through his hair and looked sad. “Sport, it’s been a helluva day. Why don’t you get ready for bed?”

He glanced at Pike and me, then he gave his mom a kiss and went back down the hall. Karen watched him go and then she turned and trudged back to the table and Barbara Billingsley was gone. Karen Lloyd’s face was older.

I said, “You want to knock off until tomorrow?”

She shook her head. “No. Let’s get this done.”