Gene didn’t look up from his pen.

“I don’t have time for home office junk today, Mara,” he said.

“You collected thirty thousand dollars three days after Claire was declared dead,” I said.

“Her name was on the policy, but the money went into your store account.”

Gene slapped his pen down on the wood.

“I spent that money keeping Frank’s business alive through a brutal recession,” he snapped, his voice ringing off the metal file cabinets behind him.

“Frank was drowning in debt after he took you away, and the store was three weeks from the bank shutting it down.”