Chapter 11
“I’m just a lawyer, Mr. Lloyd. I’m not even friends with Ms. Carlson. Why would she tell me where she went?”
Finley didn’t believe Raoul. “No, you must know where she is. Tell me. Whatever you want, I’ll give it to you.
He yanked out his checkbook, scribbling frantic amounts and tearing His voice cracked. “Just tell me where she is, and it’s yours!”
off checks. “Ten thousand? Fifty? A hundred? A million 7
135
Raoul didn’t flinch. “I don’t know where she is, Mr. Lloyd. And even if I did, I wouldn’t tell you. It’s my professional duty as her
lawyer.”
“Duty? To hell with duty! With this much money, you can do whatever you want. Who cares about duty?”
Raoul’s expression stayed neutral. “Sorry, I really don’t know. And even if I did, you should understand–if Ms. Carlson is determined to divorce you, she’s not going to let herself be found. Why would she trust me with her location?”
“I get it.”
He collapsed onto the couch, defeated. “Raoul, you can go now,”
“Very well. Please sign the papers soon, Mr. Lloyd. Don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”
With that, he left.
Not long after, Finley’s phone buzzed. His heart leapt. Claire?
“Claire!” he answered.
