Copy That. HelenKay Dimon
the churning to top speed. “That explains the travel.”
“It also means it’s not that easy to find him when he wants to stay missing.”
“I was afraid you were going to say that.”
Chapter Six
Bruce Casden stared across the table at his five-hundred-dollar-per-hour lawyer, Stephen Simmons. The Third. Simmons never forgot to add that annoying reminder of his old-money family whenever he introduced himself.
Even now, framed by the dingy gray of cement prison block walls, Simmons acted as if he sat in the middle of a country club, all stiff with his perfect posture. The designer glasses and tailored suit—Bruce had paid for it all. The guy threw in the condescending smile free of charge.
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