Redstone Construction CEO Learns About Blue Envelope in Hospital Recovery Room
“The history you did not know you were married to,” he said.
I flipped the cover back to reveal a certified copy of a marriage certificate from Maricopa County dated nine years before we met. The bride was listed as Nicole Chamberlain, using her maiden name, and the groom was a man named Arthur Vance, a real estate developer who had built half of Scottsdale.
“She was thirty-three,” Brandon said, tapping his heavy brass pen against the edge of his desk. “She told you she was working as a junior designer at an architectural firm in San Diego during those years.”
“She had a portfolio,” I said, rubbing my left wrist where my watch usually sat. “She showed me drawings of three custom homes in La Jolla.”
“Those drawings belonged to the firm, Robert. She was just the receptionist who kept the filing cabinet keys.”
I looked down at the next page, which was an obituary from the Arizona Republic. Arthur Vance had died at fifty-six, leaving behind a custom estate and a three million dollar life insurance policy.
