“In court?” Toby is in scrubs and nitrile gloves, and his tattoos and shaved head might make him sinister, were it not for what’s in his eyes.

“Yes, an acquittal that is cause for concern about breaches of security here,” I say, and his reply is to play dumb. “I’m sure you realize that communications on the CFC server aren’t private, and if deleted still exist.”

“Like what?” He looks around, looks everywhere but in my eyes. “What communications?”

“In other words, CFC e-mails neither vanish nor are considered purely personal. Therefore they aren’t an employee’s private business, not if these e-mails could be evidence in a disciplinary investigation that involves the misuse of government resources or the violation of confidentiality and CFC policy.” I look directly at him, and he won’t look at me. “In such instances, personal communications are subject to disclosure under the Public Records Law.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” But he does, and his face is red.

“Why?” I ask him, and he knows what I’m really asking.

“Why that rich guy got off?” He frowns and is frightened and pretends he doesn’t understand.

“I would have given you a good recommendation, Toby. I’m not the sort to hold someone back. All you needed to do was tell me if you weren’t happy here or felt you weren’t appreciated or wanted to pursue what you viewed as a better opportunity.”

It’s not lost on him that I’m speaking of his job in the past tense. He shifts the red bags to a different hand, his eyes darting.

“But at least Ms. Donoghue knows exactly what she’s getting,” I add. “Although I’ll point out the rather obvious fact that if you’ll do this to me, you’ll do it to her. Or at least the thought will cross her mind, and my guess is it already has.”

“It’s not like I’ve been sleeping on the job because I can’t drive home.” He takes a shot at Marino, and it’s the last shot he’ll take.

“No, you’ve been sleeping with the enemy, and that’s worse,” I reply. “I wish you well in your next venture, whatever it is. It’s best you pack up your things immediately.”

“Sure.” He’s not going to argue.

He might even be relieved.

“I need your key card.” I hold out my hand, and he removes the lanyard around his neck.

“While this matter is being investigated, obviously you can’t be here.” I make sure he’s clear on that.

“I was going to quit, anyway.”

I walk him to the receiving area and ask Ron for his assistance.