A Stranger Left an Envelope Beside My Bed on My Sixty-Second Birthday—Then I Found His Photograph with My Son
“What transaction?” Brenda asked.
“Surplus inventory.”
“Then show the invoice.”
He turned to her sharply.
“You’ve been going through my books?”
“You asked me to go through your books.”
Frank came from the kitchen when Brenda called him.
He sat at the spare place without making a speech or reaching for the papers.