Chapter 17
Suddenly, a sleek white sedan pulled up the long gravel driveway, parking near the front steps.
David Brenner stepped out of the vehicle, holding a thick leather briefcase under his arm.
“Good afternoon, ladies,” David greeted warmly, walking up the porch steps.
“David,” I smiled, standing up to welcome him. “What brings you out to the suburbs on a Saturday?”
David set his briefcase on the glass table, unlatching the silver locks with a solemn expression.
“We finished liquidating Grant’s remaining personal assets this morning,” David explained.
“His private safety deposit box at the Swiss bank in New York was finally opened under federal warrant.”
He pulled a small, ancient leather journal from the briefcase, handing it over to me.
May you like
“We expected to find cash or unregistered bearer bonds,” David revealed softly.
“Instead, we found this.”
