I have never once regretted trusting the paper over the man.

Chapter 7 — Three Thousand Dollars to Lisbon

The next morning the sun hit the white marble of the kitchen island and Jonathan was already dressed for the office, tapping a rhythm against his ceramic mug while he read the financial news on his tablet.

He wanted the guest list for St.

Jude Parish finalized by Friday.

And while he talked, I opened the gray folder on my lap and said that while I was reconciling the April ledger for Duncan Apex Holdings, I had found an entry that did not match the standard vendor list.

He stopped tapping.