I couldn't wrap my head around it. I truly couldn't.
Did Russ have some kind of leverage over him?
But according to the police investigation, Russ Finch was just an ordinary employee at some third-rate company. What possible dirt could he have on someone like Uncle Harvey?
Unless... they had that kind of relationship?
Given my uncle's apparent disinterest in women, maybe it wasn't so far-fetched.
The thought nearly short-circuited my brain.
My mind was a storm of chaos.
Was I really supposed to watch a fortune that should've been mine slip through my fingers?
Let my uncle's life's work be swallowed up by some stranger without explanation?
After standing frozen for what felt like hours, I pulled out my phone and called a private investigator I knew.
"I need you to dig up everything on a man named Russ Finch. Three generations back. From birth to now—everyone he's met, every bank transaction, every detail, no matter how small. The more thorough, the better. And make it fast."
I hung up and headed for a five-star hotel.
At the front desk, I handed over my card. The terminal beeped, and the words "CARD FROZEN" echoed through the empty lobby like a slap.