Tina was like an older sister even as Sherri became more independent and accomplished. She helped Sherri find a good divorce attorney when it became clear that her marriage was going south, no matter how much she and Mitch cared about each other, or how much they doted on little Violet, with her curly blond hair, rosy cheeks, constant smiles, and chubby ankles. Tina babysat when Sherri had night class, and when she got her degree, Tina arrived at the graduation-ceremony venue two hours early to stake out front-row seats for her, Violet, and Mitch.

Tina was the first person Sherri called after she’d gotten off the phone with Jerry one afternoon when Violet was five years old. The little girl was engrossed with the Matchbook cars Mitch had given her. “I’ve got a pile of mail from Lehman Brothers to forward to you,” Jerry had said. “And it doesn’t look like junk.”

“My pension is with Northern Trust,” Sherri said. “I already get those statements.” There wasn’t much in her account after such a short stint at the club, and that was money for later, much later. “Can you open one, see what it says?”

“I feel funny opening other people’s mail, but here goes.” She could hear Jerry’s fat hands tearing open the envelope, heard him exhale sharply. “Wowie, Sher,” he said. He paused for a long time. Then he whistled. “You never told me you were loaded.”

Sherri laughed. “That’s because I’m not! I’m broke.”

“Well, I’d say three hundred thousand eighty-four dollars and seventy-nine cents is pretty loaded.”

Sherri had no idea what Jerry was talking about. “Three hundred what?”

“This is your name right here on the paperwork, Sherri Taylor. Account opened May twenty-first, 1981.” That felt like another life to her. Sherri hadn’t forgotten about the money she’d given Arthur to invest that morning at Giles, just as she was falling under his spell. But she hadn’t followed up on it, because anything that had to do with Arthur and every step that had been set in motion leading to his demise made her feel pained and guilty. May 1981? This had to be the account, but there was a mistake. “Looks like you started out with a hundred forty thousand,” Jerry said. “Sherri, where’d you get that kind of money? Did you get involved with the Mafia out in Lake Geneva?”

“There must be a computer glitch. This is off by several zeros. Arthur opened the account, but I only gave him a few hundred dollars. It couldn’t have grown that much.” She was dumbfounded. “Arthur sold some gold and added the rest.”

“You and Arthur opened an account together?”

“He said he’d heard a stock tip and wanted to invest, but not under his name.”

“Well, Digital Switch was one hell of a damn good investment. You’ve made a small fortune.”