Part 1: Brothers’ Night
I folded the ticket and slid it into my pocket.
“Hey, Petey,” I said. “How about a brothers’ night tonight? Just you and me. Pizza and the Braves replay at my hotel.”
His face lit up. Then he glanced at Rhiannon.
“No,” she snapped. “He’s my husband. He stays with me.”
“Petey can decide for himself,” I said. “That’s what you told me, right? He’s an adult.”
In front of forty guests, she had no answer.
Petey chose pizza. Of course he did.
At the hotel, while he watched baseball, I phoned my father’s estate attorney, Mr. Whitcomb. Then I called the police.
And what they would find in Rhiannon’s purse was worse than I had imagined.
