I felt sick. I felt stunned. I felt stupid. I had seen Elliott on several occasions injecting medicine into his stomach that he said was faster acting. I was in the middle of a nightmare. This should be someone else’s nightmare. Not mine. “Elliott, a drug addict? He’s so high-functioning.”

“The world is full of them,” Lea said.

“Did these cash withdrawals go toward buying drugs? Are you saying he has already taken my retainer?” She had already confirmed that, but the truth was having a hard time penetrating my naïve brain.

I ran my plan by Lea. I jotted down my destinations and inquiries for each institution and grabbed up checkbooks. About that time, Rex breezed in. “If you’re looking for Elliott, he’s meeting with Chip.”

I had no idea who Chip was. “Who’s that?” I looked at Lea.

She considered my question. It weighed on her. “Are you sure about that, Rex?” When he nodded, she proceeded. “Chip Esposito.” When I showed no recognition, she continued, “Bailey, you really need to get out more. He loans money with high interest rates. His father is Tony Esposito.” Again, I shook my head. “Really, Bailey? He is allegedly connected to the mob.” Lea made air quotes around the word allegedly.

“Are you saying Elliott is connected to the mob?” I asked Rex.

“Can you leave me out of this conversation?” Rex said and escaped into the kitchen.

“No. Some people say Chip is a loan shark. And when he doesn’t get paid, he tells Daddy,” Lea said.

“Elliott has been borrowing money from this Chip.” I was putting the pieces together. “And that is why there is no record.”

I scooted out to our bank. As I walked inside, I felt like a cross between a criminal and a Kardashian. People glanced up at me and then glanced again in recognition, thanks to my picture in Page Six that morning. The bank manager escorted me into his office. He pulled up the joint account. He politely showed me where the funds had been deposited yesterday and been withdrawn by my husband this morning. It was already gone. My phone buzzed. It was Mac Whitney. For once, I declined his phone call. What if Elliott had talked him out of giving me the job and he wanted his money back? Not the kind of day I expected, to be dodging Mac’s calls and possibly the mob. Dazed, I left the bank and thought of my next move. An idea popped into my head, and I texted Elle. Her advice, her legal advice, was to come to her office immediately and meet with one of her partners.