Had he secretly wanted to be caught?
Or had he simply grown so comfortable with lying that he no longer understood what his silence was doing?
I folded the photograph carefully.
“I need time.”
Mr. Harrison nodded.
“Take all you need.”
I walked out of the apartment carrying a box worth twenty-eight million dollars.
But I felt poorer than I ever had.
When I arrived home, there were three cars in the driveway.
Raymond's black Mercedes was parked beside two others.
I frowned.
He had no reason to be there.
I stepped inside.
Raymond stood in my living room speaking with two unfamiliar men.
He turned when he heard the door.
“Margaret!”
His smile was too wide.
“There you are.”
I stared at him.
“What are you doing in my house?”
He spread his hands.
“Just handling some necessary family business.”
One of the men stood.
“Mrs. Ward, I'm an attorney representing Mr. Raymond Ward.”
