She sat down on the very edge of the leather stool.

Her fingers were red from the cold, and her nails were bitten down to the quick.

“Marissa’s lawyer,” Ryker said, leaning against the counter. “What was he doing at your house?”

Clara looked down at her lap, her voice barely a murmur.

“He wanted me to sign a paper,” she said.

“What kind of paper?” I asked, placing a steaming mug of tea in front of her.

She wrapped her thin hands around the mug, seeking the heat.

“A disclaimer of interest,” Clara said. “And an agreement never to contact the children.”

“She threatened me,” Clara added, a tear spilling over her pale cheek.

“She has been threatening me for three years.”

Marco stood near the kitchen doorway, his arms crossed over his chest.

“Marissa cleaned her out, boss,” Marco said to Ryker.

“I looked at the bank records on the drive back,” Marco explained.

“Marissa filed false lawsuits against Clara’s small landscaping business.”

“She used a shell company to drain Clara’s savings through legal fees.”

Clara nodded, her shoulders shaking as she took a small sip of the tea.