“I have a signed order,” Arthur said.

He unfolded the paper slowly, shielding it from the rain with his body.

“This is a temporary access warrant,” Arthur said.

“That’s impossible,” Victoria said, her eyes scanning the paper through the bars.

“It gives us forty-eight hours,” Arthur said.

“Forty-eight hours to do what?” Charles asked, his voice panicked.

“To conduct a full inventory of the house and the outbuildings,” Arthur said.

“And to search for the missing 2022 testament,” I added.

Victoria glared at me, her eyes like chipped flint.

“You think you’re going to find it?” she asked.

“I know it’s in that house, Victoria,” I said.

“You won’t find a thing,” she said.

“Then you have nothing to fear,” Arthur said.

He reached through the bars and held the paper out to her.

“Open the gate, Victoria,” Arthur said.

Victoria did not move to take the paper.

“If you don’t open it, the sheriff will be here in five minutes to open it for us,” Arthur said.

He pulled his cell phone from his pocket.

The screen lit up, showing a call already in progress with the county dispatcher.