When the police cars had gone, nobody knew what to do. Guests stood around in little groups, whispering. The harpist was packing up very quietly.

Kelsey was sitting on the steps of the clubhouse in her wedding dress, staring at nothing. Agent Holt came over to our family. Mom was crying. Dad was gray.

“I'm sorry it had to happen today,” she said. “We learned last night that Mr. Vaughn had a flight booked to the Cayman Islands tomorrow morning. One way. For his honeymoon. Alone.”

Kelsey made a small sound.

“We couldn't let him get on that plane,” said Agent Holt.

Then she looked at Dan.

“Your family should know something,” she said. “Mr. Price isn't a bank teller. He's a Senior Investigator in the Financial Crimes Unit at First Carolina Bank. Eighteen years. He's one of the best in the country.”

My dad turned slowly to look at Dan.

“His team spotted the problem with Vaughn Capital's accounts five months ago,” Agent Holt went on. “Money from investors going straight into Mr. Vaughn's personal spending. Cars. Jewelry. Rent on a yacht he didn't own. More than three hundred investors. Forty million dollars.”

She paused.

“The night of the engagement party, Mr. Price saw a business card and realized who your daughter was engaged to. He called his boss that night. He took himself off the case the next morning, because that's the rule. And he hasn't said a word about it to anyone since. Not even his wife.”