Margaret had figured it out. She’d frozen the account to stop her son from committing more crimes, and handed the evidence to Mr. Harrison to protect me.

At nine the next morning I walked into Margaret’s bank branch, presented the certified death certificate, and put a legal freeze on the entire estate.

“No withdrawals or transfers can be processed until probate concludes,” the teller confirmed.

I thanked her and walked out into the cold autumn air. If Marcus tried to swipe a card in Maui, or move money to his mistress, he’d hit a wall.

By three that afternoon my phone showed his flight had landed. A text arrived almost immediately.

Heading home. Make sure the house is clean. Fry some chicken for dinner and get started on the funeral thank-you cards. I’m exhausted.