As she opened one of the drawers, one of the files dropped out of her hand to the floor. "Sorry, my hands aren't functioning to well right now." "I'll get that for you." Miles insisted. "Have to remember your back, too." "That's okay, I'll..." but before she could finish her sentence, he had the file. Her quick eye contact with him was similar to that of a child's, when caught with their hands in the cookie jar. Miles, too, emitted a look of surprise on his face. "You had me investigated? Tell me. Did you suspect me a killer? Which was it, Michele?" His voice stern and intense. "I don't think my name was on those tore papers from that ledger." She swallowed hard remembering the paper from the cabin. No, his name had not been on the ledger. Not the one she was able to view before the mishap. "I can explain. Just hand me the file." He opened it and glanced through the pages in a hurry. "Tell me, did you find what you were looking for? Am I a psychopath?" She put the other two files away and slammed the drawer shut. "If you would just let me explain!" She snapped at him sharply. "What's the use?" He retorted.