“I have to go,” I said, and hung up the phone.

I walked to the door, unlocked the deadbolt, and pulled it open.

The damp, cold night air rushed into the warm kitchen.

The deputy stood under the porch light, water dripping from the brim of his hat.

“Meredith Lane?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said.

He handed me a manila envelope sealed in plastic to protect it from the rain.

“Emergency motion to show cause,” he said. “Court is reconvening at nine o’clock this morning at the county courthouse.”

“Who filed it?” I asked, though I already knew the answer.

“Trevor Pike’s legal counsel,” the deputy replied.

He nodded once, turned back into the rain, and walked down the steps.

I closed the door and locked it.

I carried the envelope to the kitchen table and tore it open under the yellow light of the pendant lamp.

Trevor was trying to force an immediate sale of the property before the regular hearing next week.

He claimed the cabin was a public hazard due to a shifting foundation.