“Victoria has already filed the petition to probate the forced will,” Arthur said. “The judge will likely sign the temporary administration order by tomorrow morning.”

“And once she has that?”

“She will have the legal right to inventory the house and seal the safes,” he said. “If she finds the safe in the library, she will hire a technician to drill it out, regardless of the security system.”

The thought of Garrett’s private papers being mauled by his children made my stomach turn.

We turned off the highway onto the private road that led to the estate.

The trees here were older, oak and maple, their branches arching over the asphalt like a dark canopy.

The air grew cooler as we ascended the ridge.

Then, the towering iron gates of the estate appeared through the gray mist.

The gates were closed.

A heavy brass chain was looped through the iron bars, secured with a bright yellow padlock.

“They locked the perimeter,” I said, my heart hammering against my ribs.

Arthur slowed the Buick to a crawl, stopping just inches from the iron gate.