“Jeffrey’s arrest a few years back—the dropped charges, the smuttiness of the coverage—ruined the whole enterprise, canceled the club. But he’d gotten off lightly, so they had moved on with life. She’d remained in southern Florida and made out on elderly targets for fun and some liquid cash. Newly minted retirees with more than a little savings love to feel as though they’ve met the right people, the kind of people who will help to establish them as the big shots they’d thought they had been in their heyday. It was an easy con: a simple promise of a private investment and suddenly there was a check.”
Book:Until Morning Comes