Seven Years After Hanging Up Her Uniform, Samantha Exposed Eleven Million Dollars in Court
I sat down heavily on the kitchen chair and laid the notice flat on the table in front of me.
“There’s something else,” she said.
“A handwriting guy in Hartford, retired state police.
He does document work these days, and he owes my uncle a favor from way back.
He’ll look at the signature for free if I ask him.”
“Then ask him.”
“I already did.
He wants the original and two known samples.”
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