Four Minute Phone Call Exposed My Husband and My Best Friend
I slid into the vinyl seat opposite him, the old springs creaking under my weight.
“Did you bring the recording?” James asked, his pen already hovering over his notepad.
I pulled my mobile phone from my coat pocket and slid it across the laminate table.
“The audio is clear,” I said.
James plugged a small pair of headphones into the phone and pressed play.
I watched his face, but his expression did not change as he listened to my husband and my best friend discussing their plans.
The waitress set a cup of black coffee in front of me, but I did not touch it, watching the steam rise and vanish into the air.
“This is useful,” James said, taking the headphones out and sliding the phone back to me.
“Is it enough?” I asked.
“We have enough to start, but we need the pattern,” James said.
He tapped his pen against the edge of the table, three quick beats.
“The bank receipt you found,” James said.
“Richard has it in his desk,” I said.
“I need the routing number from that receipt to trace where the funds are going,” James said.
