Chapter Forty-One
Sunday I put Jack on the treadmill, working him many miles. I need to think.
With the estate in the low nine digits, as Lips Louie suggested, that’s at least one hundred million dollars. That’s a lot of money and offers incentive for a lot of shenanigans.
Was Mrs. Lipton aware of the questionable nature of her Mexican divorce? Is that why she insisted Jack be completely cut out of the will, to be neither an alternative nor a minor heir to a vast fortune?
She did not like Jack, never enjoyed his company, essentially giving me carte blanche over his upbringing... and his body for that matter. No questions asked, not a second opinion requested when I recommended circumcision. And my bed wetting ruse, again upon disclosure, nothing but disdain. Though false, her haughtine
