"No? You bust in here when I'm leaving for the weekend and you can't even make it interesting?"
Her dislike for what I'd just said was written all over her face. "I'm trying to find where the profits from our food business have gone."
"You saying some money's missing?"
"You catch on quick."
"Maybe what you need is a business consultant – maybe an auditor. A CPA. There's also a mixed breed called a tax attorney. Now, if you think a private investigator might be expensive, wait until –"
"Those firms charge three hundred an hour and up. I know."
"Hey, then I'm a bargain at one hundred."
Intruder showed additional displeasure but did not speak.
I gave her half a minute, then said, "So you got a beef with your husband. That's not news in this office."
"Okay, hear this, then."
She set her jaw, stared me down some more, harder, said after a good minute, "I think my husband's dishonest. A crook. A thief. A liar."
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