“I don’t like it,” Pax muttered. “We shouldn’t be talking about this here.”

“She is at the clinic until eight,” Rylan said.

His voice sounded incredibly cold, a version of my husband I had never heard before.

“I checked her schedule myself,” he added. “She has a double shift.”

I squeezed my eyes shut in the dark corridor.

I had swapped shifts with Sarah three hours ago because my head was pounding and I needed to find the missing deed.

Now, my fingers clamped down on the thick manila folder I had just pulled from the bottom of the grandfather clock’s weights compartment.

The papers inside were crisp, smelling of old dust and cedar.

“The appraiser is coming on Tuesday,” Solene said.

I heard the distinct clink of a glass touching the mahogany dining table.

It was my grandmother’s crystal.

“Are you sure he won’t ask about the owner?” Pax asked.

“He thinks I am the sole executor,” Rylan replied. “I showed him the forged power of attorney yesterday.”

“And he didn’t question the signature?” Solene asked.