On an Autumn Evening in Manhattan, Fifty Million Dollars Signed Away Eleven Long Years
I pressed the block button on Spencer’s contact as the screen of my phone went dark.
The red-eye out of Kennedy touched down before dawn, and by ten o’clock the Pacific air tasted of salt and wet grass.
Theo walked twenty feet ahead of me up the coastal path, a heavy cardboard drafting tube under one arm and two paper coffee cups in his other hand.
The cliff fell eighty feet to gray ocean water tugging at the granite rocks below.
“This is the three-quarter-acre parcel I told you about back in October,” Theo said, setting the coffee cups on a flat granite stone near the edge of the cliff.
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