on Monday with two lawyers: Mark Ellison, a longtime Prescott adviser, and Caroline Price. He was dressed as impeccably as always in a dark suit, white shirt and subdued tie. Yet the strain at his mouth betrayed a sleepless night. Three years had taught me to read those small signals. His gaze followed me as Nathan opened his file.
“Good morning.”
After the formal greetings, Mark began.
“We have several questions regarding Mrs. Prescott’s disclosed interest in the private investment partnership.”
“Go ahead.”
Aaron cut across him.
“I want to
