Every Friday at 6 p.m. my daughter called me without fail, and the one week my phone stayed silent I drove to her house and heard a sound from upstairs that turned our quiet Tennessee life into something I still can’t fully talk about

that money. Your son‑in‑law is a professional con artist, Mr. Brennan. He’s been lying to and taking advantage of vulnerable people for years.”

“Who did he target?” I asked, though I already had a feeling.

“Older folks,” Gerald said. “People planning their retirement. People who trusted him because he sounded like he knew what he was doing. People who continue reading …