The permit was registered to my mother’s private residence on the northern edge of the city.

My mother had ordered a massive, hidden safe to be installed in her home.

And she had done it in total secrecy, just weeks before she died.

I stared at the papers, the pieces of the puzzle starting to shift in my mind.

Grant had kept this work order hidden in his private drawer for months.

He had been searching for something.

If he had the work order, he knew the safe existed, but he did not have the location or the key.

My phone buzzed again, the screen lighting up with a call from Marcus Reid.

I answered it immediately.

“Emma,” Marcus said, his voice tense.

“The auditors are setting up their laptops now.”

“Grant is in the room, and he is demanding that we limit the scope of their search.”

“He is claiming some of the files are protected by client privilege.”

“Do not let him limit anything, Marcus,” I said, my voice hardening.

“I am coming down now.”

“What about Helen?” Marcus asked.