“He paid off his Elm Street mortgage thirty days later.

He never owed a dime on that house.”

Eleanor stared at the red stamp.

She didn’t look away from the numbers.

I reached into the envelope again and took out the glossy photographs Howard had taken at Oakridge Marina.

I laid them in a row next to the insurance document.

“This is the Sea Star,” I said.

“It’s a seventy-foot luxury motor yacht.