He dropped the brass key into his coat pocket.

“We don’t need the county sheriff coming out here to enforce an injunction.”

“You took a key to my front door six years ago, didn’t you?” I asked.

Dean stopped on the top step, and his smile slipped for a second.

“You’re letting Vance put foolish notions in your head, Clara.”

“I know what was in Daniel’s tackle shed,” I said.

Dean straightened his coat collar and went down the steps to his Buick without another word.