Chapter 2 - THE MAN ACROSS THE STREET
Frank did not open the metal case.
That irritated Richard more than anything.
“What’s inside?” I asked.
“Not mine to show you.”
“You walked into my driveway carrying it.”
“I know.”
“Frank.”
“Dana has the key.”
Of course.
Mark had turned my life into a scavenger hunt after dying.
I wanted to scream at him.
Instead I looked at Noah.
His lower lip had swollen.
Blood stained his white funeral shirt.
“Hospital.”
“I don’t need—”
“Urgent care.”
“Mom.”
“Noah.”
He stopped.
Frank looked at Richard.
“I saw you hit him.”
Richard pointed.
“She attacked me.”
“She stopped you from advancing toward her son after you struck him.”
“I own this property.”
Frank’s expression did not change.
“That has nothing to do with hitting a fifteen-year-old.”
Richard looked toward his house.
Except it was mine.
Maybe.
My certainty had cracked.
“Laura,” Evelyn called.
I turned.
She stood beneath the porch awning.
Rainwater ran down her silver hair.
“Mark borrowed money from us.”
“What?”
“For this house.”
“I know Dad helped with the down payment.”
“Helped?”
Richard laughed.
“Four hundred thousand dollars.”
“That’s impossible.”
“Ask your dead husband.”
Noah flinched.
I stepped toward Richard.
Frank put one hand lightly against my arm.
Not restraint.
Reminder.
Children.
Police.
Facts.
I stopped.
Richard continued.
“Mark agreed the house returned to us if the debt remained unpaid at death.”
“Show me.”
“I will.”
“Now.”
“Not standing in freezing rain.”
“You changed the locks before I came home.”
“Because this became my property at 4:12 this afternoon.”
The time Mark’s death certificate recorded?
No.
Mark died at 6:23 the previous night.
Richard was lying or referencing something else.
I took out my phone.
“Call the police,” I told Frank.
Richard laughed.
“For a property dispute?”
“For assaulting Noah.”
His laughter stopped.
Noah said:
“Mom.”
“What?”
“Sophie.”
She was crying silently in the back seat.
Right.
I opened the door.
“Come here.”
She climbed out and wrapped herself around me.
Her soaked funeral dress clung to her legs.
“Can we go home?”
I looked at the house.
“I don’t know.”
That hurt more than saying yes would have helped.
“We’re going somewhere safe.”
“Where?”
“My sister’s.”
“No.”
She buried her face against me.
“I want my room.”
“I know.”
Richard called:
“She can get her things tomorrow.”
I turned.
“You will not enter Sophie’s room.”
He smiled faintly.
“Not your decision anymore.”
Frank said:
“Richard.”
Something in his voice made Richard stop.
Then Frank looked at me.
“Mark’s first instruction was not to let you sign anything tonight.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
He looked toward the house.
“But he was very specific about one sentence.”
“What?”
“If Richard has a brass key before the funeral flowers are dead, assume he started before I did.”
I stared at him.
May you like
Started what?
Before I could ask, two police cruisers turned onto the street.
