“Do we have that?”
“Not yet,” she said. “Maybe. We’ll see.”
“How much is this going to cost?”
Helen looked at Russell. Russell looked at the ceiling.
“Opal called me,” Helen said. “We’ve worked something out. Don’t worry about it right now.”
“I can’t let her pay for…”
“Rebecca,” Helen said. “With respect. You have a lot of things to worry about. That’s not going to be one of them today.”
Meanwhile, I went looking for Gordon Pierce.
Gordon had been Buckeye’s outside accountant for five years. A quiet, careful man in his sixties who wore sweater vests and brought his own lunch in a paper bag every day. He’d done our quarterly books and our taxes. He’d stopped working for us about six months after my arrest. I’d never known why.
I found him on the internet. He’d retired and was living in Westerville, about twenty minutes away.
