“You entered a sealed property under probate court jurisdiction,” Lydia said, her tone suddenly very quiet.

“That is a felony, Evan.”

“Good luck proving it,” Evan said, his smile widening.

“The house is empty.”

“The caretakers are on leave.”

“I have my key, and I have every right to protect my wife’s interests.”

My phone vibrated in my coat pocket.

It was a sharp, double buzz.

I didn’t take it out, but I felt the heat of it through the fabric of my trousers.

I thought about Malcolm.

Malcolm had been quiet when we spoke earlier that afternoon.

He had told me he was going to secure the perimeter of the Hayes estate.

He had mentioned that the old security system, the one my father installed in the nineties, ran on a closed-circuit loop.

It was independent of the main power grid, backed up by a solar battery in the carriage house.

Evan didn’t know about the backup battery.

Evan had never paid attention to the technical details of the estate.

He had only cared about the value of the dirt it sat on.