The floorboards creaked behind me as I turned around.

My mother was standing in the kitchen doorway, holding a damp dish towel.

Her face was pale, and she was staring at the blueprints on the table.

“You shouldn’t be looking at those, Maren,” she said.

“Where is the key to Dad’s safe box, Mom?” I asked, stepping toward her.

She took a step back into the kitchen, her eyes darting toward the hallway that led to her bedroom.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said.

“The safe box in the tool shed,” I said. “The one with the original deed.”

Before she could answer, the front door of the cabin opened again.

Dorian walked in, followed by the man in the high-visibility vest.

“Maren,” Dorian said, a cold grin on his face. “This is Vance Miller. He’s here to help us finalize the new boundary lines.”

The broker took off his hard hat, revealing a bald head and a thin, calculating face.

“Pleasure to meet you, Lieutenant,” Miller said, his eyes scanning my military jacket. “Your stepfather tells me we can wrap this up by tonight.”