Forty Thousand Dollars and the Deed to Maple Avenue Bakery

we had used for thirty years.

“The locksmith finished the deadbolt this afternoon,” Arthur said, his precise, formal voice carrying clearly in the cool air.

“It seems almost too bright,” I said, looking at the polished brass.

“The old lock was slipping, Evelyn,” Arthur said, his fingers turning the key over in his hand. “A business like this needs to continue reading …