Vance to alter clinic records?”

“Of course not,” Spencer said, coming toward the table.

“Vivian made these documents up to stall our legal settlement.”

I reached into my bag and drew out the second, blue binder.

I opened it to the ledger sheets I’d taken from Spencer’s locked desk drawer with the brass key I’d kept from our house.

“This is the original cash ledger from the clinic archives,” I said, setting it down next to Arthur’s coffee cup.

“It shows three payments of fifteen thousand dollars each out of Spencer’s personal account to alter lab logs.”