Chapter 8 - PRIDE COMES BEFORE THE FALL
"Cut the act, Martha," I said, keeping my voice steady. "I know about Costa Rica. I know about the offshore accounts."
Martha’s fake tears vanished instantly. Her face hardened into a mask I had never seen before. "You were always so small-minded, Arthur. Forty years I played the good wife. I deserve that money."
I leaned forward. "You didn't have the right to forge my name."
Brenda scoffed loudly, rolling her eyes. "Oh, please. It took me five minutes to practice your pathetic, shaky handwriting. The bank teller didn't even blink. You're a dinosaur, Arthur. The world moved past you, and we just took what you were too stupid to manage."
Bingo.
"So you signed it, Brenda?" I asked, needing it crystal clear for the microphone.
"I signed it, Martha deposited it, and by tomorrow night, we'll be sipping margaritas on a beach where your local cops have no jurisdiction," Brenda sneered. "So, take the $120,000 we left you, or you get nothing."
May you like
I looked at my wife one last time. "Have a nice trip."
I stood up and walked out of the diner.
