Chapter 2: Revelations

I headed downtown, where I knew of a hotel where I could get an extended-stay room at a reasonable rate even without a reservation. ISS had used this hotel many times over the years – so much so that they gave us a nice discount. I paid for a week’s stay in cash, figuring I would be back in my own house by then. I also didn’t want to make it any easier for them to find me, even though I figured they were having me followed.

The clerk was surprised to see me hand over a small pile of $100 bills, but he said nothing as he put them in his cash register and handed me a key card. A bellhop took my luggage and followed me to the room on the 11th floor.

After putting everything away, I ordered dinner from the hotel’s kitchen, which I knew was open until midnight. Then I pulled out my phone and blocked Samantha’s number. I knew several divorced men who had gotten into trouble simply by replying to texts and phone calls. My next action was to call my boss, Jack Iverson, to let him know what had happened.

“Damn, son, that’s cold,” old man Iverson said. “Tell you what, I’ll call Alice Hawkins and see if I can get you in to see her first thing in the morning. I’ll text you when I finish with her.”

“Thanks, boss, I appreciate that,” I told him as we ended the call. Alice Hawkins is a family law attorney who hates cheaters with a passion. I got a text from Jack about 30 minutes later confirming my 9:30 a.m. appointment with Alice. He also offered me the company’s private investigative services at no charge. I accepted and sent a “thank you” text in response.

I grabbed my laptop and set it up, connecting to the hotel’s WiFi. I first checked our joint account, and it was frozen. But not before Samantha had withdrawn nearly 80 percent of it.

Our joint credit cards had been paid off and canceled, and our joint savings account was also mostly gone. Fortunately, all of the monthly bills had already been paid. I logged into my disability account, which was at a different bank. I was relieved to see that it was still available. I now felt vindicated in not telling Samantha about that account.

I next logged into my home surveillance system and saw there were two videos already saved to the cloud. I pulled up the first video and saw Samantha and Allison coming into the house. A man in a well-tailored suit accompanied Samantha. Interesting, I thought to myself. Looking at the timestamp, I realized this happened shortly after I left.

“Well, how did it go? Did he sign the papers?” Samantha asked after they were all inside the front room.

“No,” Allison said. “I told you he probably wouldn’t. Legally, he has thirty days to respond. By the way, you didn’t tell me he would be armed.”

“Armed? You mean, like, with a gun?”

“Yes, Samantha, that’s what ‘armed’ usually means,” Allison answered sarcastically. “I was never so scared in my life,” she declared.

“He used to be a federal agent,” Samantha quietly told her. “He was shot in the line of duty. That’s why he has that cane. I know he has a concealed carry permit.”

“Oh wonderful,” Allison said. “You could’ve said something to me in advance.”

“Wait,” the man interjected. “Are you saying he pulled a gun on you?”

“Yes,” Allison responded. “He went through every room in the house almost as if he was expecting someone to be here. Who did he work for? Do you know?”

“No, not exactly,” Samantha told her. “Some kind of a task force. He never talked about his work much, though. I know he once told my father that he killed people he didn’t throw in jail.”

“Task force? Interesting. I’ll have to look into that,” Allison said thoughtfully.

“Fucking terrific,” the man exclaimed. “A mad former fed with a gun. What do you think he’s gonna do when he learns the whole truth?”

“Settle down. He’s not gonna do anything,” Allison said. “Yes, he’s angry, and to be honest, he has every right to be. But he’s not stupid. And he’s not gonna learn the whole truth. One other thing, Samantha.”

“What?”

“Why didn’t you tell me this was his home before you two got married?”

“I didn’t think it would matter,” Samantha answered. “Why?”

“Why? Are you kidding me? Technically speaking, you have no right to this place in a divorce.”

“But you said I deserved to have it.”

“And I meant it. But you just made my job a whole lot harder,” Allison spat.

“So, does that mean we can set him up now?” the man asked. “I’ve got a whole thumb drive chock full of images and video right here with me. It won’t take me but a second to put it on his computer. Then we’ll have him dead to rights. He’ll be in jail before he knows what hit him.”

“Put that away, right now,” Allison commanded. “We’re not at that stage yet. Besides, he took his backup drive when he left and he locked the door to his office. I think he also changed the security code to that lock.”

“So?” the man asked. “Give me a tire iron. I can use that to break through this door. Plus, Sam gave me the password to his computer.”

“Don’t even think of it,” Allison said, her face red. “We’re going to have to be careful here. Don’t do anything rash. You hear me? Just give me some time to think things through. I’ll need to find out everything I can about your husband, Samantha. I have federal contacts. Let me see what I can get from them. In the meantime, you two cool your jets. And don’t do anything stupid, you hear me, Alan? We don’t work in the same department, but I’m still senior to you. Got it?”

“I hear ya,” the man sheepishly said. At least now I had a first name. And I knew just how far they would go to set me up. But why? Allison left the house, and the video ended when Samantha and Alan walked up the stairs.

The next video was taken in the master bedroom. Alan took his jacket and tie off, throwing them on the back of my chair. He followed up with the rest of his clothing as Samantha undressed. When she was nude, he took her in his arms.

“C’mon, Sam, why don’t we get under the covers and enjoy ourselves?” he asked with a wry smile. Samantha looked up at him as she returned his smile.

“I guess it wouldn’t hurt,” she said. “After all, this will be our bedroom before long. You might as well get used to it.” She turned and spotted my ring on the dresser. “Oh, look at this. Mikey left his wedding ring. How thoughtful. Maybe I can pawn it with the rest of his crap.” Both of them laughed at that. She tossed the ring back on the dresser before returning to the bed.

“So, which side is mine?” Alan asked, and Samantha pointed to the side closest to the door.

“That side,” she told him. Alan pulled the covers back and got in the bed. Samantha followed, climbing on top of him afterward. “This is so nice, not having to worry about whether or not my weight will bother your leg.”

Talk about devastating! This was the first time I had heard her complain about my leg. It usually didn’t bother me unless she sat on it for too long, but even then, I never let her know. Until now, I thought my injury never bothered her.

“That’s right. Ol’ Mikey’s a cripple,” Alan sneered. “Well, I’ll have you know I’m in perfect shape. Gimme that body of yours.” Samantha giggled as she wriggled herself on top of him.

“Put that big cock inside me and fuck me silly,” she demanded. Alan reached down and adjusted his cock so she could impale herself on him. “Oh yeah, that’s it,” Samantha cooed as she took him inside her pussy. “Now, fuck me. Make me your woman. Do it! Fuck a baby in me.”

“Aren’t you still on the pill?” he asked as he bucked inside her.

“No. I quit taking those today,” Samantha told him. This was new, as I never knew she was on the pill. She knew that I had a low sperm count, which, according to several doctors I had seen over the years, was something I was born with. But again, we had discussed it, and Sam never seemed concerned about it. It just meant the odds of my fathering a child were reduced.

“Then get ready to be pregnant,” Alan said as he fucked into her harder. He rolled over while buried inside her and spread her legs wide as he pumped into her harder and faster.

“Yes! Yes! Fuck me! Harder,” Samantha exclaimed, her eyes wide. “Fill me with your hot cum!”

“I’m cumming,” Alan groaned as he fucked Sam harder. “Aaaarrghhh,” he growled as he ejaculated inside my soon-to-be ex-wife. As he rolled off Sam, I saw his semen dripping from her spread twat. She scooped some of it with a finger and licked it clean, like a lollipop.

“That’s so yummy,” she cooed. I stopped the video, unable to watch any more. I felt my dinner start to come back up and headed for the bathroom. After emptying my guts into the toilet, I washed my face and counted to ten while taking long deep breaths. I couldn’t believe what I had just seen.

The only woman I had ever truly loved in my entire life had made a mockery of our wedding vows. And she had done it in the bed we had shared for the last several years. I began to wonder if I ever really knew her. After collecting myself, I went back into the room and looked through the pictures Allison had given me.

They all had a date and time stamp in the lower right corner and were also marked with a location: Dallas, Texas. Going back to my laptop, I pulled up my calendar. I was in Seattle on the exact dates the photos were supposedly taken in Dallas. Which meant I also had receipts for any expenditures I made. I figured that alone should be enough to prove I wasn’t the man in the photos.

I looked closer at the man and noticed no clear face shots. Interesting, I thought. Then it hit me. Examining the photos, I realized two pictures showed the man’s right thigh. There were no scars present in either image. I could easily prove that all of these photos were staged. But why? Unless...

Damn her, I thought. Samantha intended to use the prenuptial to rape me in a divorce to cover up for her infidelity. According to the agreement her father put together, adultery meant the guilty party left the marriage only with what he or she brought into it with no support.

I looked closer at the divorce papers and realized Samantha went far beyond what the prenup stipulated. She not only wanted my house but also 80 percent of all the marital assets and 75 percent of my 401K, along with a crippling amount for “maintenance.” I knew there was no way she would ever get that much in court, which explained why Allison pushed me to sign the papers sight unseen.

I wanted to find out what I could about this Alan character. I thought he worked with Samantha’s law firm, so I went to their website. Sure enough, I found him – Alan Williams, a junior partner who joined the firm after leaving New York a few months ago. I decided to have our investigators look into his background.

Seeing it was pushing 11:30 pm, I shut my laptop down and prepared to go to bed, but my phone buzzed. Looking, I saw it was Jacob Greene, Samantha’s father. I was surprised he would call so late in the evening but decided to take the call anyway.

“Mike, this is Jake Greene. How the hell are ya, boy?” he asked in his usual salty manner.

“Frankly, I’ve had better days, Pop,” I answered.

“I’ll bet you have. I was at the club with Langley, and he told me that you and Sam are getting divorced,” Jacob said. “Imagine my surprise when he asked me how I handled the news of my daughter’s pending divorce. I tried Sam’s phone, but it went straight to voicemail. Wanna fill me in?”

“It’s true. She had me served this evening. Claims adultery.”

“Did ya do it, boy?” Jacob asked in a severe tone. This was just like him – direct and to the point. It was one of the things I admired about the man.

“Hell no,” I answered. “But she did.”

“What? You telling me she fucked around on you but claims you fucked around on her?”

“That’s exactly what I’m telling you, Pop.”

“You got proof of this?”

“Sure do. You want to see it for yourself?” I asked him.

“As a matter of fact, yes, I do. Where are ya? I’m coming over right now.” I told him where I was staying, and he repeated it for verification.

“I’ll be there in a half-hour. I don’t give a shit how late it is. I wanna see this so-called evidence.”

“I’ll be here, Pop,” I told him. We ended the call, and I got everything ready to show him, then made a small pot of coffee, knowing he would want some. I heard a knock on the door, grabbed my pistol, and looked through the peephole. Seeing it was Pop and verifying that he was alone, I cracked the door open.

“It’s just me, son. No one else is here,” Pop said. I unlatched the chain and opened the door but kept my pistol handy.

“Come on in,” I told him. He walked in, and his eyes grew wide when he saw the 9 mm handgun.

“What the hell? You expecting trouble?” he asked, shocked.

“Always,” I told him as I closed and locked the door.

“Well, put that damn thing away, willya? It makes me nervous,” Pop said. I made the weapon safe and put it back in the holster, close by my side.

“Want some coffee before we get started?” I offered, holding out a paper cup. Pop shrugged his shoulder and took the cup.

“What the hell,” he said. I poured each a cup, and we sat down. “Are you sure this is coffee?” he asked after a tentative sip.

“That’s what the package says,” I answered, causing him to laugh.

“Show me what ya got,” he finally said. I handed him the photos Allison gave me earlier that evening. Pop looked through them, his brows furrowed. He sighed and handed them back to me.

“What do you think?” I asked.

“Well, the guy in those photos does seem to bear a slight resemblance, but whoever he is, he ain’t you.”

“What makes you say that?”

“For starters, I’ve seen you in swimming trunks. That fella doesn’t have a scar on his right thigh,” Pop said. “In a couple of those photos, he looks like he’s putting all his weight on that right knee. I’ve never seen you do that.” I couldn’t help but smile at his observation. He was right, however. Since being shot, I have never been able to put all my weight on that knee.

“One other thing,” I added. “Look at the date and time stamp on those photos. According to Allison, this happened in Dallas. I was in Seattle when these pictures were allegedly taken, and I have the receipts to prove it.”

“Interesting,” the older man said. “You said you have proof that Samantha is cheating on you. I wanna see it.”

“It’s pretty graphic, Pop,” I warned, and he waved off my concern.

“I’m an adult, boy. There’s nothing I haven’t seen before. Trust me on that.”

“Okay. Have it your way. This was from earlier this evening, after I left the house,” I told him as I started the videos. He watched the action play out on my laptop with his brows furrowed. When they finished, I brought up the real-time surveillance cameras. Samantha and Alan were sleeping in my bed, naked, arms and legs wrapped around each other.

“I’ve seen enough,” he said. “Turn it off. Please.” I ended the video and closed the lid on my laptop.

“Well?” I asked.

“I believe you, son,” he finally said quietly. He looked deep in thought for a few moments, then looked at me. “You think this has anything to do with your time on the Task Force?” The idea had crossed my mind, and I found his question intriguing, so I wanted to hear his reasoning.

“What makes you ask that?” I could see him carefully choosing his words.

“I haven’t exactly been completely straight with you, son. Please understand that, like you, I have been sworn to a level of secrecy.”

“I understand, Pop,” I reassured him.

“I know all about the Task Force,” he told me quietly. “I also know about that MMAS bunch.” MMAS, the Mutual Marital Assurance Society, was a radical group started by a female lawyer who sought to punish cheating husbands. Unfortunately, her quest for power went way beyond that objective.

“Could you explain that a bit for me, Pop?” I asked quietly. He sighed heavily before continuing.

“Trudy isn’t Samantha’s birth mother, but she’s the only mother Sammie has ever really known,” Pop began. I knew Trudy was Pop’s second wife but never pressed the issue. I always figured if he wanted to talk about it, he would. And now, he was. “Sam’s birth mother abandoned us when she was a little girl.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” I told him. He shook his head.

“Don’t be. Patricia – that was her name – got involved with the woman who started that MMAS. Wanted me to help underwrite her operation. She figured I’d be open to it, given some of my charitable and political donations. I met the woman – Mona Larsen. Listened to her spew her snake oil. Of course, I refused to help her. I understood her pain, but there was no way I could condone what she wanted to do.

“Patty, on the other hand, not only condoned it but wanted to help Mona so much she abandoned us to do it. I hired Bill Jackson to deal with my divorce. She took her maiden name – Witherspoon – and moved to Washington, DC, to work with Mona.”

“Wait, did you say, Witherspoon?” I asked.

“Yes, I did. Why?” Pop asked.

“I recall hearing about a Pat Witherspoon who died in custody a few months before I got shot. Was that your first wife?”

“Yes,” Pop said quietly. “She didn’t just die, though. She was murdered. By Mona Larsen. I was told she had some kind of poison capsule in her neck. She supposedly got a message from Mona that her services were no longer required. That triggered a hypnotic suggestion that she slap her neck. When she did, the poison capsule broke and she was dead before her body hit the floor.”

“I didn’t know all that,” I told him. “Wasn’t my case.”

“It’s neither here nor there,” Pop said. “By then, I had already remarried. Trudy can’t have children, but she happily adopted Sammie.” He wiped his eyes, then looked at me before speaking again. “I know MMAS has a history of going after former agents. It’s their way of getting revenge. That’s why I asked if you think they’re involved in this.”

“It had crossed my mind. But I was under the impression the corporate entity known as MMAS is destroyed.”

“Technically, it is. But there’s still a lot of rogue operatives and agents being rounded up,” Pop said. “I heard they just took a couple of former contractors into custody not that long ago.”

“Damn,” I said. “I hadn’t heard that, but I haven’t exactly been in a position where I needed to know. So tell me. How is it you know all this?”

“After Patty left us, I filed for divorce. Bill Jackson still did family law in those days, and he took my case. When I told him what happened, he informed me that he and some others had heard about Larsen and her group,” Pop said. “He had this crazy idea and ran it by me. I liked it and started putting together a funding mechanism.

“We formed a board, planned everything out. Hell, I put together the funding to purchase that old Army base you call Fort Apache. I also lobbied Congress to get federal support. You know the rest,” Pop told me.

“So, when we first met, you already knew about me,” I suggested.

“I knew everything about you, son. Everything,” Pop said. “Including your reputation as a hard-ass who doesn’t take shit from anyone.”

“So you were just yanking my chain the day we first met,” I joked. Pop smiled and nodded his head.

“It’s what I do best, son,” he admitted. “Besides, I wanted to see if there were any truth to the rumors. So, what are you gonna do now?”

“I have an appointment to see an attorney tomorrow morning. I intend to have the restraining order lifted, then I plan to evict Sam from my house.”

“Restraining order?” Pop asked, shocked. “She took out a restraining order?”

“Yeah. Can you believe it? Then I’m counter-filing based on adultery. And I plan to invoke the prenuptial you had us sign. If I have my way, someone will go to jail.”

“Jail?” Pop asked.

“The last time I looked, attempted extortion, conspiracy, and perjury are still against the law. So is fabricating evidence. Things have changed over the last seven years, but I don’t think they’ve changed that much.” Pop laughed at that.

“Good luck. Just do me one small favor, if you would, please,” Pop said.

“What’s that?”

“I know you have to do what you need to do. But try not to hurt my little girl too much. Please,” he begged quietly. I knew what he meant and nodded in understanding.

“I’ll do my level best,” I told him. “I do have some questions, though, if you don’t mind.”

“What’s that?”

“What can you tell me about Sam’s first husband?” I had never asked Samantha about that, figuring it was in the past. Pop sighed heavily and nodded his head.

“His name is Alvin Morrison. He’s an accountant. Last I heard, he worked for a financial services outfit downtown. He and Sam met in college and got married after they graduated. Seemed like a nice enough fella. Bit of a wimp, though, if you ask me,” Pop said.

“What happened?”

“Sam says he cheated on her,” Pop answered. “Kicked his ass to the curb, filed divorce based on the prenup. I never heard from him after that.”

“Sounds a bit familiar, doesn’t it?” I asked. Pop’s eyes widened, and his brows raised as he looked at me.

“Now that you mention it, yeah. It does,” he finally stated. “You think she set him up as well?”

“Don’t know until I’ve had a chance to look into it. But it certainly seems like a possibility, doesn’t it?”

“I ... suppose it does. Which means...”

“At this point, absolutely nothing,” I interrupted. “I’m just thinking out loud right now. But it IS something that needs to be checked out.”

“I agree,” Pop said as he stood to leave. “Keep me in the loop, if you would.”

“We’ll see, Pop,” I told him sadly. He seemed to understand, but I could tell he was slightly disappointed in his daughter. We shook hands, and I walked him to the door. He turned to me before leaving.

“I’m ... sorry about all this, son,” Pop said quietly. This was the first time I had heard him apologize for anything, and I knew it didn’t come easy. “You’re a good man and don’t deserve this.”

“I appreciate that, Pop. Apology accepted.”

“One last thing, son. Stay in touch, willya?”

“Of course,” I said. To my surprise, he hugged me like a father would a son, then left. I closed the door, went back to bed, pulled the covers down, and went to sleep.

...

The following day, I got up earlier than usual, did my business, dressed, and then gathered my things for the day. I didn’t bother checking the surveillance system – I could always look at it when I returned. After grabbing a light breakfast and a fresh caramel mocha, I headed to the office, classic Tull keeping me company.

My boss, Jack Iverson, the CEO of Iverson Security Services, or ISS, waved me into his office when I arrived. I saw Terry Torres, the head of Investigative Services, in his office, so I went to Jack’s corner office.

“Morning, Mike,” Jack said. “I wasn’t expecting you in until after your appointment with Alice.”

“I couldn’t sleep, so I decided to come on in,” I explained.

“I understand,” Jack told me. “I took the liberty of briefing Terry on your situation. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all. In fact, I have a couple of leads that might be useful.”

“Oh?” Terry asked.

“I learned last night that the man Samantha is cheating on me with is Alan Williams, a partner with the Hempstead Law Group. I couldn’t print a picture, but he’s on their website. If that doesn’t work, you can Google ‘Asshole.’ Maybe you can get a picture there.” Both men laughed at that.

“That’s a start. Anything else?” Terry asked.

“Yeah. I want you to see if you can find an Alvin Morrison. I believe he works for a financial services outfit here in town,” I said.

“And who is he, exactly?” Terry asked.

“He’s Samantha’s first husband. I want to know everything about their divorce. Should be a public record, so it’ll be easy to pull up. I’d appreciate it if you could verify his employment.”

“If he’s in town, that should be relatively easy to do,” Terry said. “Just out of curiosity, though, what are your intentions?”

“I’d like to chat with him about his divorce. I have a feeling this isn’t the first time Samantha’s played this little game,” I said. Terry nodded his head as he made notes. “One other thing. I need to know everything you can learn about these photos.” I handed Terry one of the pictures from the envelope Allison gave me the previous day.

“Damn. You don’t ask for much, do you, Boss?” Terry asked sarcastically as he looked at the photo. Jack looked at it after Terry handed it to him.

“You weren’t even in Dallas when this was taken,” Jack observed. “Assuming this date stamp is correct.”

“No, I wasn’t,” I replied.

“The photo could take some time, but I should have some answers on the rest of this for you by the end of the day,” Terry told me. “Don’t worry, Mike. I’ll get my best people on this and forward whatever we find to you and Alice.”

“Thanks, Terry, I really appreciate that,” I told him. “I owe you.” He smiled at that.

“Buy me a cold one, and we’ll call it even,” he quipped. “Well, I’d better get to it. I’ll be in touch.”

“Thanks, Terry,” Jack said as Terry left. I echoed the sentiment, and Jack motioned for me to close the door. He looked at me, concerned, before speaking.

“You think this might be a rogue MMAS operation, Mike? You know how those folks are about getting revenge,” he said.

“I don’t know, Jack. I thought that at first, but I’m not sure. I did learn one interesting little tidbit, though.”

“What’s that?” Jack asked.

“Samantha’s birth mother was Pat Witherspoon, one of MMAS’ top field operatives.”

“That IS interesting. She’s been dead for quite a while now, from what I’ve heard. Tell you what I’ll do. I’ll reach out to Bill Jackson and Oscar Warren and see if they’ve heard any chatter. Oscar’s pretty much the top dog over there at Fort Apache now,” Jack said.

“That’s what I heard as well.”

“Tell you what, Mike. You got a good group of people backing you up on this. Let them do the heavy lifting. Meanwhile, take some time off, maybe go fishing or something,” Jack said, concerned.

“I appreciate that, Jack, but I can’t just sit on my ass while Samantha screws me over,” I told him.

“I understand how you feel, Mike. Really, I do. But maybe you should sit this one out. You’re not a field agent anymore,” Jack told me.

“I know. But I can’t just sit back and ... do nothing. I’m just not wired that way.”

“No, you’re not, and that’s one of the things I admire about you. But you’re not much good to me in the shape you’re in now, Mike,” Jack said. “We’ve got your back. Take some time off anyway. You’ve earned it. When we learn something, you’ll be the first to know.”

I took in Jack’s face and realized he was “this close” to ordering me to take time off. The professional side of me realized he was right. I needed to back off a bit and decompress. And he was right that I had a good group of people behind me. After thinking about it, I nodded my head in agreement.

“You’re right, Jack,” I finally said. “I just need to get a few things from my desk before I see Alice.”

“Smart move, Mike,” Jack said with a wry smile. “Go on, do what ya gotta do. We’ll be in touch. And keep me in the loop.”

“I will,” I told him. “Thanks.” I went to my office and pulled up my expense report with copies of receipts for the days I was in Seattle. Then I copied the two videos I downloaded to a thumb drive, adjusted my “out of office” email auto-response message, then packed up my stuff. On the way out, I saw Jack smile and nod his head. I smiled back and left.

I got to the building where Alice Hawkins worked, parked, and went inside. I was about 15 minutes early, but I knew Alice wouldn’t mind. I checked in with the receptionist, who directed me to the waiting area. A few minutes later, she escorted me to Alice’s office.

“Good morning, Mr. Jacobs,” Alice said as she offered a hand. “Mr. Iverson told me to expect you this morning. Would you care for a cup of coffee? The shop on the first floor makes a wonderful caramel mocha.”

“That would be terrific, Ms. Hawkins,” I said. “Please.” I started to pull some money out of my pocket, but Alice stopped me.

“My treat. Sally, would you mind running down for me, please? Two large caramel mochas, and get yourself something as well,” Alice said as she pulled some money from her purse.

“Of course, Ms. Hawkins. Thank you,” the pretty, young receptionist said as she took Alice’s money. After Sally left, Alice motioned to a chair in front of her desk, and I sat down.

“Mr. Iverson tells me you’ve been served with divorce papers,” Alice said.

“That’s correct, Ms. Hawkins,” I replied.

“Please, call me Alice. Do you have the papers with you?”

“Yes, I do,” I told her, opening my briefcase. I grabbed the envelope and handed it to her. Alice looked through the papers, frowning as she did so. When she finished, she set the papers down and looked at me with a scowl.