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I couldn’t bear to look into his office without him there. First, I’d check email. Come to think of it, there was paper mail lying on the floor inside the door. I needed to check that. I wondered if there was a protocol I should follow about opening company mail. No one had actually told me I was fired, so I figured the best thing to do was carry on business as usual.That meant throwing away the junk mail and opening the one remaining piece. It was a check from FinCEN for the work Dag did last month on a laptop Jordan brought him. As usual, it was made out to D.H. Investigations for Computer Forensics. I could take it to the bank and deposit it like normal. I slid it into a desk drawer to deal with on the way home tonight. Or on Monday if need be. I’d not gotten far into email, which was mostly just subscriptions and a couple of messages regarding my research thesis, when a man showed up in the doorway.“Excuse me,” he said. “I’m looking for Miss Deborah Riley?”“How may I help you,” I.

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