Sloane sank down onto a wooden stool near the tasting table, covering her face with her hands.

“He told me we were going to move to France,” she sobbed. “He said we’d buy a vineyard in Provence once the divorce went through.”

“With my money,” I said.

Sloane didn’t look up.

Lydia touched my shoulder, guiding me back toward the stairs.

“We have what we need for the immediate probate freeze,” Lydia whispered as we walked up to the kitchen.

“Is it enough to arrest him?” I asked.

“It’s enough to suspend his executor status immediately,” she said. “The criminal charges will follow once the DA reviews this inventory.”

As we stepped back into the bright light of the dining room, my phone vibrated in my coat pocket.

I pulled it out and looked at the screen.

It was a text from Evan.

*Claire, please. Let’s talk before this goes any further. I’m at the office. Just you and me.*

I showed the screen to Lydia.

“Don’t answer,” she said. “We’re going to the courthouse to file the emergency motion.”

“He’s panicking,” I said.