“They aren’t mine,” I replied.
He studied me carefully. “You’re awfully calm for a man whose daughter tried to steal his house.”
“I spent thirty-eight years as a forensic accountant,” I said. “Calm is how you catch thieves.”
That was the first thing Clara forgot.
Before I opened my little neighborhood tax office, I worked fraud investigations for banks, insurance firms, and two federal cases. I understood shell companies, fake transfers, forged power-of-attorney documents, and desperate people who believed paperwork made them untouchable.
