Seven Crumpled Dollar Bills on a Pine Table in Michigan

“Donald’s attorney was here at nine.”

“What kind of situation?” Mike asked.

“A formal counter-complaint,” Miller said, sitting behind a gray metal desk. “He is alleging that your club members are keeping Sarah and the boy hostage.”

Shark polished his wire-rimmed glasses on his sleeve before putting them back on. “That is a classic diversionary continue reading …