Chapter 6
That was exactly what people said when hurting you remained an option.
He stepped into the foyer.
Tall. Dark coat. Leather gloves. Calm face. Maybe forty. Maybe older. His hair was black threaded with gray at the temples, and he carried himself like someone accustomed to entering dangerous rooms without raising his voice.
His eyes moved to the poker in my hand.
Then to the ledger under my arm.
“You opened it,” he said.
“Who are you?”
“Adrian Voss.”
My grip tightened.
“That’s convenient.”
His mouth twitched slightly. “Rarely.”
“Why are you in my grandmother’s house?”
“Because your mother called someone she shouldn’t have. Because your brother is desperate. Because your sister is scared. And because by tomorrow morning, at least three people named in that ledger will know you have it.”
I raised the poker higher.
He didn’t move.
“Your grandmother asked me to watch the house after her death,” he said. “Specifically, to stay away unless the family started circling.”
“They started with coffee.”
“I saw.”
Something about his tone told me he had watched the video too. Not with pity. With assessment.
My phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
Then another buzz.
Nora.
I backed away from Adrian and answered.
“Rowan,” Nora said, voice tight. “Police are at your gate.”
“At my cabin?”
“Yes. Two county units. They say they’re responding to a report of stolen financial records and elder abuse.”
My eyes moved to Adrian.
He nodded slowly, as if some unpleasant prediction had just arrived on schedule.
“My grandmother is dead,” I said.
“The complaint alleges you manipulated her before death to obtain property and documents,” Nora said. “Filed by Beatrice Vale.”
A laugh escaped me.
Not because it was funny.
Because it was perfect.
My mother had burned me on Sunday.
Played victim on Monday.
Lost control on Tuesday.
Reached for the law on Thursday.
Adrian held out his hand, palm up.
“May I?”
I put Nora on speaker.
Adrian said, “Ms. Chen, this is Adrian Voss. Tell your client not to return to the cabin. Tell the police she is en route to meet counsel. Do not mention the ledger.”
Nora went silent for half a second.
Then, carefully, “Mr. Voss. I wondered when you’d appear.”
I stared at the phone.
“You two know each other?”
“Unfortunately,” Nora said.
Adrian’s eyes remained on mine.
Outside, through the front windows, headlights swept across the trees at the end of the drive.
Not police lights.
A black SUV.
Then another.
Adrian’s calm expression changed for the first time.
Not fear.
Recognition.
“Rowan,” he said, “we need to leave through the cellar.”
The front door handle turned.
Once.
Locked.
Then a knock came.
Slow. Polite. Almost gentle.
A voice called from the porch.
“Ms. Vale? We only want what belongs to us.”
Adrian looked at the ledger under my arm.
Then at me.
May you like
“Your grandmother didn’t bury money,” he whispered. “She buried leverage.”
The door shook under the first heavy blow.
