“And Diana.

Twenty thousand is an odd number.

It isn’t a piece of any house in Greenville County.

It’s a number that fits something else.”

I sat with the folder open on the passenger seat and the dome light glowing.

Then I folded the draft back into my purse, started the car, and went looking for somewhere with good light.

Clare had the bank envelope slit open before I had my coat off, and the conference room smelled of toner and stale coffee.

“Preliminary disclosures,” she said.