"Go home! The USB drive with the transferred assets is sewn into the lining of that designer handbag of hers! And the videos she filmed with those men are on a burner phone hidden in a secret compartment under her vanity! Get the evidence first, then make her wish she'd never been born!"
Half an hour later, I finally walked through my front door.
The apartment was pitch black. The bedroom door swung open and Beverly came out in a silk camisole, rubbing her eyes.
In the dim glow from the hallway, I could see it clearly: the hickey on her collarbone that hadn't fully faded, and the wide bruises darkening both her knees.
I clenched my teeth. Every muscle in my body screamed, but I forced the rage down.
"Honey, what took you so long?" She padded over, already leaning into me the way she always did, her voice a playful whine. "You reek of smoke. It's gross."
I stepped back half a pace, feigning exhaustion. "I'm wiped. Just need to rest. Go pour me a glass of water?"
The moment her back disappeared toward the kitchen, I slipped into the bedroom and locked the door behind me.
"Hurry! Bottom drawer of the vanity. There's a hidden compartment inside!"