“I’m standing at the estate gates, Evan,” I said, my voice dead calm.

“I’m looking at something very interesting.”

“What are you talking about, Claire?” Evan asked.

His voice lost a fraction of its smooth confidence.

“I’m looking at a security feed from three hours ago,” I said.

The wind howled outside the car, shaking the frame of Lydia’s sedan.

“The probate court sealed the estate house yesterday, Evan.”

“You know that.”

“I don’t have time for your games,” he said, a sharp edge cutting through his tone.

“You have twelve minutes to sign the agreement, or these financial records go to the federal prosecutors.”

I tapped the speaker button on my phone.

Lydia leaned closer to the dashboard.

Malcolm kept his eyes on the dark road ahead as he shifted the car into drive.

“The records you’re holding are fruit of a poisonous tree, Evan,” I said.

“Actually, it’s worse than that.”

“It’s state’s evidence now.”

I paused, letting the silence stretch between us over the cellular line.

“I’m sending you a file right now.”

“Take a look at your screen.”