Aunt Caroline pressed her hand to her mouth, a soft gasp escaping her lips.

“That’s impossible,” she murmured.

“Who was he, Caroline?” I asked.

Marcus stepped between us, his shadow falling across the table.

“It’s a piece of junk from the dirt,” Marcus said. “It doesn’t mean anything.”

“It means your partner Warren Bellamy has been lying to us for years,” Blake said from the doorway.

“You stay out of this,” Marcus snapped, turning on him.

“I can’t stay out of it, Marcus,” Blake said. “Not when the sheriff is on his way here.”

Marcus froze, his hand hovering over his phone.

“What do you mean, the sheriff?” he asked.

“Lydia Crane just called,” I said. “Wexler Stone has filed a fraud lawsuit against you and Warren.”

The room went entirely silent, save for the ticking of the grandfather clock in the hall.

Aunt Caroline looked up, her eyes bright with tears.

“A lawsuit?” she asked. “For how much?”

“Millions,” I said. “They are claiming civil conspiracy.”

Marcus tried to laugh, but the sound was hollow and dry.