"Nothing. He was socking it away, shifting the money to an offshore account so his wife couldn't get her hands on it. How was he supposed to know the judge would turn out to be such a hard-ass? Four years? My god. He was more shocked than I was."

"Really."

"I'm serious. He felt like a turd. He got in this big stinking argument with the prosecuting attorney. That went nowhere. Then he wrote to the judge, begging him to be lenient, but no such luck. He promised he'd have his attorney file an appeal –"

"An appeal? What are you talking about? Beck had no standing to file an appeal. The law doesn't work that way."

"Oh. Well, maybe I misunderstood. It was something like that. He said it was his responsibility and he'd take the blame, but by then, it was too late. He had more to lose than I did. How I looked at it, as long as he was free, he could work on getting the rest of the money set aside. Besides, he was taking all the risks. If somebody had to pay, better me than him."

"So you came up with the idea," I said, trying to keep the skepticism out of my voice.

"Sure. I mean, I can't exactly remember who mentioned it first, but I was the one who insisted."

"Reba- – I don't mean to sound critical so don't blow your stack-but it looks like he set you up. Doesn't it look like that to you?"

That was a stumper. "You think he'd do that?"

"He did this," I said, pointing to the photographs. "You're the one who toughed it out down there, day after day for the past twenty-two months. Meanwhile, Beck's up here screwing around. Doesn't that bug you? It bugs me."

"Of course it bugs me, but it's not exactly news. He's a womanizer. I've always known that about him. It doesn't mean anything. That's just the way he is. The reason I'm mad at her is she should've had more loyalty or integrity or something."

"You don't even know when it started. He could have been involved with her when the alleged embezzlement first came to light."

"Thank you. That's nice. Once I get done choking her to death, I'll have her verify dates and times."

"I hope that's hyperbole."

"Whatever that is," she said. "The thing I can't figure out is what this has to do with the FBI? Why's this guy chasing around town snapping pictures of Beck? And why bring 'em to me? If he wanted to make trouble, why not show Tracy?"