You were hired to check line items, not to question the bloodline that feeds you.”

“You spent forty-one thousand two hundred dollars of foundation money on Mercer Ridge LLC,” I said.

“That’s grand larceny under state law.”

Julian leaned down until his face was six inches from mine, his voice dropping to a cold whisper that smelled of scotch.

“If you say that name out loud again in this town, I’ll have you committed to a state psychiatric hospital before your seventh month.”

He turned on his heel, walked into his private dressing room, and shut the door behind him.