I took another slow step forward, keeping my hands visible.

“I know you took three hundred thousand dollars,” I said.

“That was family money,” Mark spat. “I had a right to it.”

“It was Abigail’s money,” I said. “She saved it to keep this ranch alive.”

Mark shook his head, his teeth clenched.

“She was hoarding it,” he said. “She was letting the land go to waste.”

“She was keeping it out of your hands,” I said.

I watched his chest heave. He was breathing heavily.

“Where is the real ledger?” he demanded.

He raised the iron poker a few inches.

“Tell me, Alana, or I swear to God I will tear this house apart with you in it.”

“You really don’t remember, do you?” I asked.

I wanted to keep him talking.

I needed him to stay right here, in this room, until Ana could get help.

“Remember what?” he growled.

“The night Abigail built the secret compartment,” I said.

Mark stared at me, his eyes narrowing.

“There is no secret compartment,” he said.

“There is,” I said. “She built it the year your mother died.”