“But straight enough to figure out how to shut down a state-of-the-art elevator system?”

“That does sound pretty far-fetched,” Riley said. He ignored the hot look Cruz shot at him. “But so does your theory. Which depends on Barrett lying about your résumé. Lying about firing you. And getting somebody to doctor the time stamp on the CCTV. All just to make it look like you killed Ms. Carter-Jones.”

“Yes,” I said. “That’s how it must have happened.”

“Oh, I get the how. What I can’t see is why. A bigwig like Barrett’s gonna go to all that trouble—break the law—to cover up a suicide? What for? Just to spare the husband’s feelings?”

Cruz nodded. “It doesn’t make any sense that he’d do that.”

“I don’t know what his motive was,” I said. “But I can disprove mine. Your whole theory turns on the idea that I was fired for résumé fraud. This”—I struck my palm on the sheaf of papers—“is not my résumé. And I wasn’t fired. And I can prove both of those points.”

Cruz snorted and threw his pencil down. It did a cartwheel across the table, and I snatched it out of the air and held it aloft like a conductor’s baton.

“You think I made up the clerkship to impress Barrett, right? But if the résumé was tailor-made for Barrett, why would I print out a stack of them with the same lie? I would’ve only needed the one. And I didn’t even need that anymore. I already had the job.”

“Oh, so somebody planted them, huh?”

I ignored the sneer in his voice. “Yes. Check the pages for fingerprints. You won’t find mine. Because I never touched these papers. I never even saw them before.”

Cruz’s eyes shifted slightly to Riley.

“I can prove I wasn’t fired, either. What’s the first thing they do when you get fired? It’s all spelled out in their employee manual. They have a whole protocol. They take away your keycard and have security escort you back to your office to clear out your desk. Right? To make sure you don’t sabotage the place on your way out or sneak back in later. Do you see any security officer in that video? No, because nobody escorted me anywhere. And guess what else? I still have my keycard. Or you do. It was in my purse when you bagged it up last night. Go and check.” I shot the pencil like a torpedo across the table and leaned back and folded my arms. “I’ll wait here.”

Riley was studying me with a look of bemused interest. But Cruz set his jaw even tighter. They both got up and left without saying another word.

After they were gone, I let my game face collapse. I hadn’t anticipated any of this. I could blame my failings on the shock of the gunfire, the ringing in my ears, my utter exhaustion, but the plain truth was that I’d been outwitted.

Funny. A month ago I’d thought Barrett was my savior. Now he was my worst enemy.