The Secrets of Cedar Hollow Road and the Price of Family Betrayal
“You need to get up to Cedar Hollow Road right now,” the voice said.
I stopped in the middle of the aisle, the heavy doors swinging shut behind me.
“Who is this?” I asked.
“A neighbor,” the man said. “There is a bulldozer sitting at your gate.”
The line went dead.
I stared at the black screen of my phone.
The elevator at the end of the hall dinged.
The doors slid open, and I saw Trevor and Kelsey waiting inside.
Trevor was looking at his own phone, a small, grim smile on his face.
He caught my eye just as the metal doors began to slide shut.
I didn’t take the next elevator.
I turned on my heel, my flat shoes squeaking against the polished terrazzo floor of the courthouse.
My lawyer, Arthur, was just stepping out of the courtroom doors, stuffing a yellow legal pad into his leather briefcase.
“Arthur,” I said, my voice tight. “They have a bulldozer at my gate.”
He stopped, his hand freezing on the brass buckle of his bag.
“What do you mean?” he asked.