Chapter 90:
The ledger sits on Miss Okonkwo's desk like a live grenade.
Nobody touches it. Nobody even breathes on it. It's a plain black book, the kind you'd buy at any office supply store, and it's got thirty years of names and dates and amounts written in a neat, careful hand.
"Felix Marsh kept his own accounts," Miss Okonkwo says. "Every payment. Every favor. Every body."
Kael's standing by the window with his arms crossed. "How bad?"
"Bad enough that I've already called the state attorney's office and the federal prosecutor." Miss Okonkwo turns a page. "There are three judges in this book. Two state troopers. A county sheriff. Fourteen lawyers. And a sitting state senator."
The room's quiet.
"And Margaret Sterling," Miss Okonkwo says. "On every page. For thirty years."
I'm sit
