“I was just about to call you,” Marcus said. Ray looked at the flash drive in his open palm. “You first.” A pause. The sound of a man who’d been hoping, until this moment, that he was going to be wrong. “Samuel Voss isn’t who he said he was. Or rather, Voss is one of several names he’s used.”
Marcus’s voice was even and careful, the way it got when he was delivering numbers that told a story nobody wanted to hear. “There was a marriage in Tucson. Four years ago. A woman named Patricia Heller — family money, not substantial but real. They married quickly, collected significant cash gifts at the wedding, opened a joint account two months before the ceremony.”