While Lauren talked, Frank reached his left arm behind his back, slid a thick manila file folder off the safe’s top shelf, and tucked it inside his dark wool coat.

I was watching Lauren twist her earring and didn’t catch what was written on the tab before he pulled his coat closed.

“Mom got rid of every tax file two years before she died,” I said.

“There aren’t any estate tax papers in that safe.”

“She kept backup copies, Claire,” Lauren said, her cheeks going red.

“You were tied up with Bennett and your job after the divorce, so I handled the legal requests.”

“The safe stays exactly where it is,” I said.