His medicine deliveries.
His appointments.
She had even sat beside me at the hospital once and held my hand while Russell was in surgery.
“No.”
Margaret opened another file.
Payments.
Encrypted accounts.
Foreign transfers.
“Rebecca wasn’t working alone.”
Russell looked sick.
“For whom?”
Margaret glanced toward the basement behind us.
“Thomas.”
Hayes.
My father.
I felt numb.
“He ordered her to poison Russell?”
“Not exactly.”
