The Cost of Truth and the Fall of the Richards Family Dynasty
He was likely sitting in his study at the Richards estate, a drink in his hand.
“I was just reviewing some old files,” I said.
“Old files are best left in the basement, Natalie,” he said. “They tend to get dusty.”
“Some dust can be cleaned,” I said.
“You should listen to your mother,” Gregory said. “She knows how difficult things can get when people dig too deep.”
“Is that a threat?” I asked.
“It’s a family observation,” he said. “You’re no longer part of this family, but I still feel a certain obligation to warn you.”
“I don’t need your warnings,” I said.
“You have a promising career in the Army, Colonel,” he said. “It would be a shame if an administrative error cut it short.”
“I serve the Constitution, Gregory, not your balance sheet,” I said.
He let out a short, dry laugh.
“The Constitution doesn’t pay the bills, Natalie,” he said. “And it won’t protect your mother’s pension either.”
I looked at Eleanor.
She was watching me, her eyes wide with fear.
“Leave her out of this,” I said.