“Why would he?” Rylan said. “I have the house keys, the tax bills, and her grandmother’s death certificate. He has no reason to suspect anything.”

A cold sweat broke out across my forehead.

The forged power of attorney.

That was what they had been working on when Rylan kept the study door locked last week.

“What about the bank?” Pax asked. “The equity loan is already in the second stage of approval.”

“That is the beauty of it,” Rylan said, and I could hear the smirk in his voice. “Once the loan clears, the funds go directly into the joint account. From there, I transfer them to the shell account we set up in Delaware.”

“And Calla?” Pax asked.

“She will think the bank made an error,” Rylan said. “By the time she hires a lawyer to sort it out, the house will be sold to the developers.”

“She will be devastated, Rylan,” Pax said. “She loves this place.”

“She loves a pile of rotting wood,” Solene said sharply. “This house is an albatross. It is sitting on prime real estate that can be turned into six townhomes.”