Clara found a forged receipt for forty thousand dollars

fingers pressing into the fabric of my purse where the handwriting analyst’s card was tucked away.

“She loved this town,” I said, keeping my voice level. “She loved it.”

“She did,” Donald said, looking directly into my eyes with an earnestness that made my throat tighten. “I want us to be a family, Clara, just like Martha wanted.”

Marcus walked over, continue reading …