Dr.

Wallace had driven away in his dark sedan, and Christopher was downstairs in the study going through bank ledgers.

I slipped into the master suite and pushed the heavy mahogany door shut until the brass latch clicked quietly into the frame.

Raymond was propped up against two firm goose-down pillows.

His dark eyes were wide open, clear and sharp, watching me as I walked toward the bed.

“Christopher gave me this at lunch,” I whispered, holding the formal letter close to his chest.