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The first time I’d seen it was in Marcus Bradley’s office seven months ago.
    Marcus was the Chief Legal Counsel for Marshak Corporation and a good friend of Maggie’s late father. In many ways, after Henry’s death, Marcus had become the new father figure in Maggie’s life. He often questioned her decisions, and her announcement that she was marrying me was one of the times when he told her it was “a very bad idea.” He, like Roberta, felt I was only interested in her money and set out on a campaign to save her from a ruthless gold digger.
    At his request, I had agreed to meet at his office in Raleigh. When I entered the conference room, he was seated at a mammoth mahogany table along with his associate, Richard Applee, and Maggie. She had a worried look on her face.
    Marcus was a tall, lean, black man with striking features. Even seated, he towered above everyone else, but it was his deep voice that gave him a commanding presence.
    It was obvious from the start he intended to buy me off, to get rid of me like an unwanted cockroach. He explained how he had orchestrated the departure of Maggie’s first husband and Julie’s father, David Fornell. Marcus had badgered Maggie and Fornell into signing a prenuptial agreement, which protected Maggie financially, but Fornell had become a major public embarrassment with his indiscreet womanizing and uncontrolled spending.
    Marcus was also co-executor of the Marshak Family Trust, and much of the family lived off of that trust. He used the trust to buy Fornell off for five hundred thousand dollars. In return, Fornell agreed to a no-contest divorce and gave up parental rights to Julie, whom he never wanted to be around anyway. Maggie did not say a word, but I could tell she was humiliated by the events being discussed.
    Marcus nodded to Applee, who picked up a briefcase and set it on the table in front of me. It was a handsome briefcase in rich brown leather with brass fittings at the corners. The matching leather handle had brass hinges.
    I stared at the briefcase.
    “Go ahead, Mr. Tucker,” Marcus said. “Open it.”
    I slowly pushed the locks to the sides and the clasps snapped open. Marcus nodded for me to continue. Maggie looked terrified.
    Inside were sixty bundles of bank-strapped hundred dollar bills. I had never seen so much money before in my life.
    Marcus watched me with a contemptuous look on his face. I pointed to the cash. “May I?” I asked.
    “Please do.”
    I picked up one of the bundles and fanned it to confirm they were indeed hundred dollar bills. “This is a lot of money,” I said. “It’s breathtaking.”
    “Six hundred thousand dollars,” Marcus said.
    “A hundred grand more than Fornell?”
    “Call it inflation. And according to our sources, that’s more money than you’ve earned through your entire career.”
    I put the bundle back in the briefcase. “I want to be clear about this,” I said. “I can pick up this briefcase and walk out of here right now, and there’ll be no questions asked—no police?”
    “That’s right, Mr. Tucker. The briefcase is yours.”
    Maggie was mortified and looked down at the table like she was in a trance. “I’m sorry, Maggie,” I said, “but this is just too good to pass up.”
    I dumped the six hundred thousand dollars in the middle of the table and closed the briefcase. “I don’t have any use for the money,” I said, “but this … this is a damn nice briefcase … and I really need one.” I nodded. “Thank you very much.” Holding the briefcase with my left hand, I turned and walked out of the conference room and left the office. Maggie giggled as I closed the door. Marcus and Applee were speechless.
    The interaction was insulting, but it was the beginning of a relationship of mutual respect between Marcus and me.
     
     

CHAPTER 7
     
     
    The Renee Clancy residence was a single story, khaki-colored ranch with white trim and black shutters dressing the windows. It had a black,