“You stole that from my personal quarters,” Alexander said.

“I didn’t steal it,” Marcus said, glancing toward the main house. “I was paid to retrieve it.”

“By whom?” Alexander asked.

Marcus did not answer.

He looked past Alexander, his eyes fixing on me.

“You shouldn’t be out here, Elena,” Marcus said.

“Who paid you, Marcus?” I asked, my voice firmer than I felt.

A second police cruiser, its lights dark, pulled quietly down the main road behind the sedan.

Two officers stepped out of the shadows of the stone pillars, their hands on their holsters.

Marcus saw them in his side mirror.

He gripped the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white.

“Don’t move, Marcus,” Alexander said.

The door of the sedan opened slowly.

Marcus raised his hands, the silver key dangling from his index finger.

“It was Celeste,” Marcus said, his voice cracking.

“She promised me fifty thousand dollars to get the documents out of the safe before the police arrived.”

“What documents?” Alexander demanded.

“The original copy of your wife’s will,” Marcus said.

“The one she hid in the safe three years ago.”