Then, the radio on Malcolm’s shoulder crackled to life.

“Deputy, we have the warrant signed and uploaded,” the voice on the radio said.

“Understood,” Malcolm said. “We are beginning the search of the secondary rooms.”

Malcolm turned to Sloane.

“Let’s go,” he said.

Sloane stood up, her legs shaking, and led Malcolm and another officer toward the back hallway that led to the garage.

Lydia and I followed them at a distance.

The hallway was lined with expensive modern art that Evan had bought with my money.

We reached the heavy wooden door that led to the garage storage area.

Sloane pointed to a small padlock on a metal cabinet.

“The key is in the kitchen drawer,” Sloane said.

The officer used a bolt cutter from his kit instead, snapping the lock with a loud metallic crack.

He pulled the cabinet doors open.

Inside, stacked neatly, were several large plastic storage tubs.

On top of the first tub lay a velvet-lined mahogany box.

I knew that box.

It was my mother’s silver tea service, engraved with her family initials.

“That’s it,” I whispered, my voice caught in my throat.