“There is no cash left,” Chloe said. “You spent it all trying to cover up the first fire.”

Beatrice raised the wooden beam.

“I should have left you in the house,” Beatrice whispered. “You were always the weak link.”

“Beatrice, drop it,” I said, stepping into the room and shining the flashlight directly onto her face.

Beatrice spun around, shielding her eyes with her free hand.

“Audrey,” she sneered, her lips curling into a bitter smile. “The little survivor. Still poking your nose where it does not belong.”

“The police are outside, Beatrice,” I said, keeping my voice as steady as I could. “Liam has Darrow. It is finished.”

“Darrow is a fool,” Beatrice spat. “He thought he could handle your husband. I should have done it myself.”

“You tried,” I said, my voice hardening as I looked at her. “You tried to burn me out. You tried to steal everything my father left me.”

“Your father was a weak man,” she said, taking a step toward me, her knuckles white around the wood. “He did not deserve that fortune. I built the Langford name.”