“You’d tell me to sit down first,” I murmured.
So I did.
At the kitchen table I
opened it. There were five photographs.
The first showed Trevor outside a hotel, face turned away, his arm around a woman who was not Kristen. The second showed him entering the same hotel at night. The third showed Kristen in a restaurant booth, sitting across from Lyle Voss. The fourth was a copy of a wire transfer. The fifth was a legal draft labeled Confidential Separation Agreement.
I read the first page, then the second, then I stopped.
Kristen had known everything. The affair. The debts. The lies. She hadn’t
been trapped in Trevor’s downfall. She had been managing it. According to the draft, she was preparing to divorce him and claim half of everything he had told her he owned, including interests in Cedarline Capital, my company assets, and the River Oaks property. She had hired investigators. She had collected evidence. She had met with Kessler not as a frightened wife, but as someone negotiating leverage.
