He spent forty years at the shop keeping tolerance logs down to the thousandth of an inch.”

“Four months of statements are missing,” I said.

“Maybe Samuel Price has them,” Raymond said.

“Or maybe Julian helped him clear out the drawer when the home-care nurses started coming.”

I touched the small brass key resting cold under my dress collar.

“Julian didn’t have the drawer keys.”

“Julian had whatever he wanted if he asked loud enough,” Raymond muttered.

I picked up the small green refund check from the funeral home for the unused bouquet arrangement, two hundred and twenty dollars, and tucked it into my purse.