Clara found a forged receipt for forty thousand dollars

handing him a mug of warm cider. “She kept it in the top drawer under the stationery.”

“It is not there,” Gary said, cracking his knuckles in the dark. “The whole drawer is empty.”

I stood in the doorway, the kitchen light casting a long shadow across the porch floor.

“Did Donald have a key to the house before she passed?” I asked.

“He had the spare from continue reading …