Eight Hundred Thousand Dollars and a Missing Name on a Ledger

who had always avoided my eyes when we discussed the Ninth District files, stood near the copy machine.

“I can help you carry that to the garage, Lydia,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I can manage, David,” I said.

I wrapped my fingers around the blue folder containing the duplicate receipts from the consulting firm and slid it between two continue reading …