“I figured we could sit down and talk before your afternoon conference call.”

I didn’t reach for the bakery bag.

I took the folded receipt out of my pocket and spread it open on the wooden bench under the coat hooks.

“Why did Frank Vance’s commercial company run a full title search on our house four days ago?”

Lauren froze halfway through hanging her jacket on the brass peg.

She reached up with her right hand and twisted her silver hoop earring between her thumb and finger.

“Oh, that receipt,” she said, giving a quick laugh that never made it to her eyes.