He Changed the Lock to His Own Phone Number and Forged My Dead Wife’s Signature on the Deed. He Forgot She’d Put the Cabin in a Trust

“You’re trespassing, Mr.

Beaumont,” I said, and my voice carried clean over the rain.

“Edmund,” he said, in a familiar tone that turned my stomach.

“I know I’m the last man you want on your steps tonight.

But I drove three hours from Cincinnati because this needed to be said face to face.”

“You have three minutes,” I told him, “before I call Deputy Grady, whose station is up the road and who does not dawdle.”

Beaumont sighed and lifted the briefcase.