He let out a low, breathless laugh that sounded rusty in his throat.

“Did you see Christopher in the hallway when the afternoon mail came?” Raymond asked.

“He was yelling at his broker on his cell phone,” I said.

“He slammed his study door so hard the picture frames in the hall rattled.”

“He thinks Arthur retired to Florida five years ago,” Raymond said, his dark eyes sparkling under the bedside lamp.

“He thinks he’s fighting an old man who can’t find his glasses.”

“Dr.