“I sat in this kitchen two years ago and listened to Julian talk about his high-rise investments,” Raymond said.

“I thought he was the smart one because he wore three-hundred-dollar shoes.”

He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a folded slip of paper.

“I lent him five thousand dollars from my lumberyard pension back in August,” Raymond said.

“He told me Dad had approved the short-term loan.”

“Did Julian ever pay you back?” I asked.

“Not a dime,” Raymond said, shaking his head.

“And I was too ashamed of my own stupidity to ask your father about it.”