Samuel lunged toward the boxes.
Daniel blocked him.
They crashed into a metal shelving unit.
Boxes toppled.
Paper scattered across the floor.
Martin shouted from the corridor.
“I called security!”
Samuel stopped immediately.
He straightened his coat as if nothing had happened.
Then he looked directly at me.
“You have no idea what your husband involved you in.”
He backed toward the corridor.
“But you will.”
Then he left.
Daniel stood frozen.
“What is in the Chicago box?” I demanded.
“I don’t know.”
“You looked at it.”
“Because I’ve heard about it my entire life.”
We found the box beneath a stack of old tax folders.
Inside were documents.
Photographs.
A small metal lockbox.
And a newspaper clipping from fifteen years earlier.
The headline referred to a financial investigation involving a private investment company called Whitmore Capital Partners.
Robert
had never worked in finance.
Samuel apparently had.
I read quickly.
