Dust billowed out from under the skirting, smelling of dry Texas earth and old cedar.

I kept a constant watch on the road, knowing how easily someone could notice the activity.

Richard’s business partner, Todd Vance, lived only two miles away.

Todd was a partner in Richard’s real estate firm and a stickler for details.

He had keys to the house in case of emergencies, and he frequently dropped by to pick up files Richard left behind.

I had told Todd that I was doing some minor landscaping work while Richard was away, but a crane in the driveway was hard to hide.

“We need to keep the heavy machinery behind the tree line as much as possible,” I told Nathan.

“We’re doing our best, Alexandra, but that crane has a sixty-foot boom,” he said. “People are going to see it.”

By the sixth day, the house was physically split in two.

The western half, containing the kitchen and the kids’ bedrooms, stood on temporary steel supports.

The eastern half, containing the master suite and Richard’s study, was being prepped for the first flatbed.