"With the money," Julianne answered, taking the tablet from his hands.
Leaving the ruined drywall and the abandoned medical crates of the master wing behind, they relocated to the primary study. The heavy double doors shut out the lingering noise of the retreating construction crew.
Sitting under the harsh glare of the desk lamp, Julianne pulled up the financial records Dr. Harrison had forwarded regarding the clinic’s outsourced sanitation crew. The Delaware shell company listed on the cleaner’s fake ID was a masterpiece of corporate evasion. It was a hollow vessel constructed solely to funnel daily wages into a Manhattan payroll account without triggering a single tax flag.
Christian stood behind her chair, leaning over her shoulder to study the cascading data lines. The exhaustion in
