Julian had handed his master office keys to Martha Gable on the courthouse steps, leaving the rest of his business assets in receivership to settle outstanding vendor debts.

The front doorbell chimed twice down the front hall at eleven o’clock sharp.

I went downstairs slowly, keeping one hand firmly on the carved oak banister as my body healed from the delivery three days earlier.

Samuel Reed stood on the front porch in a dark wool overcoat, carrying a thick manila folder tied with red cotton string.

He took off his gray felt hat and polished his thin wire-frame glasses with a white handkerchief before stepping inside.

“Good morning, Audrey,” he said in his measured bank voice.