“What do you mean?” he asked.

I could hear his footsteps moving toward the desk drawer where he kept his flashlight.

“She took out a joint policy under my name, but the clauses were tied to your estate,” I said.

The paper felt cold against my palm.

“If we both died in that charity fire, your entire corporate holdings would have defaulted to the trust she managed.”

In the dim light from the window, I saw the silhouette of Darrow shifting near the door.

He made a soft, scraping sound with his shoe.

“Don’t move, Darrow,” Liam warned, his voice cutting through the dark.

A bright beam of white light suddenly sliced through the room as Liam switched on a heavy metal flashlight.

He aimed the light directly at Darrow’s face.

Darrow blinked, shielding his eyes with a manicured hand.

His forehead was slick with sweat.

“I didn’t know about the life insurance, Vance,” Darrow stammered, his voice shaking. “I swear to you, I only handled the real estate transfers.”

“You helped her cover up the arson,” I said, stepping closer to Liam.