Nineteen Thousand Dollars, a Forged Signature, and a Flight to the Dominican Republic
He opened the brass clasp and slid a stack of glossy printed pages onto the top of the cabinet.
“Flight confirmations,” Marcus said.
He handed the top sheet to Rebecca.
She read it silently and passed it to me.
The logo of a major commercial airline sat at the top of the page.
The departure date was October twentieth at zero six hundred.
The destination was Punta Cana, Dominican Republic.
“Two tickets,” I said.
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