He laid the stamped quitclaim deed gently across my knees.

“He built a legal wall around your front door, Claire.

I want to know what he saw coming from the other side.”

“Did he leave any other property documents in the file?” I asked.

“Only a second filing about his life insurance policy and a private courier instruction,” Marcus said, turning back toward the front office.

“If I find anything else in the county database while you’re away, I’ll have a courier put it directly in your hands.”

Lynn dropped two navy blue hard-shell suitcases onto my living room carpet at six o’clock sharp, the zipper tags rattling loudly against the brass handles.