“My nephew took the documents from the family safe three months ago,” she said.

“He forged my signature on the transfer papers.”

Marcus stared at her, his mouth slightly open.

“You’re crazy,” he said.

“I have the originals in my car,” Caroline said.

She pointed back to her sedan.

“I found them in his office desk yesterday.”

The police officer walked over to Caroline’s car.

Marcus made a sudden movement toward his own truck, parked near the edge of the woods.

“Stay right there, sir,” the officer said, turning back.

Marcus stopped, his hands in the air.

The rain was coming down harder now, washing the mud down the slope.

The water in the trench was turning red from the clay.

I looked down at the key in my hand, the cold iron pressing into my palm.

My phone buzzed again in my pocket.

I pulled it out.

It was a text message from an unknown number.

I opened it.

It was an email attachment forwarded to me.

The header read: *Wexler Stone Development – Immediate Termination of Intent to Purchase.*

I tapped the document to open it.