I slid the original brass key into the deadbolt and turned it right until the iron latch clicked free.

The front hall was cool and smelled of fresh blue paint and clean cedar trim.

Grace carried the sweater box in and set it next to the stair banister while I picked Bennett’s toy crate up off the porch rail.

“Did Evelyn say when the bank will unfreeze your personal credit line?” Grace asked, leaning against the door frame.

“By three,” I said.

“The clerk sent the certified injunction over to First Federal by courier.”