Brewster held up a hand and gave me another charming grin. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Did Dr. Korman keep up with child support while he was in prison?”
“Yes,” I admitted. “His lawyer arranged for the sale of the Jer—uh, John Richard’s house, and supposedly the child support came out of that.”
“What do you mean, supposedly? Did you ask Korman’s lawyer where the money came from?”
“You bet I did. And he rudely informed me that as long as I got the money, where it came from was none of my beeswax. He also told me that Marla’s snooping wasn’t going to get her anywhere.”
There was a knock on the door. Brewster Motley jumped from his chair to answer it. He spoke in a low but confident voice.
“No,” he said finally, “my client and I will tell you when we’re ready.” Without waiting for
