“When?”

“The morning after she passed,” he said. “Before her body was even taken from the house.”

“Who was there?” I asked.

“Graham,” Arthur said. “He was the only one who went into her study that morning.”

He looked back at the window, his chest rising and falling quickly.

“I saw him come out with a green leather folder,” Arthur added. “He told me it was just personal correspondence.”

“He stole it,” I said.

“If that easement is registered, Cypress Meridian cannot build,” Arthur whispered. “The land becomes worthless to them.”

A heavy knock rattled the wooden door, making us both jump.

“I know you’re in there, Arthur,” Graham’s voice called out from the porch.

The tone was smooth, but there was a sharp edge to it.

“Open the door,” Celeste added, her voice muffled by the thick wood. “We saw your car.”

I looked down at the notepad in my hand.

I tore the top sheet off, folded it quickly, and slipped it into my front jeans pocket.

“Do you have a back door?” I whispered to Arthur.