Forty Thousand Dollars and the Deed to Maple Avenue Bakery

from five years ago,” Diana said, pointing to a dusty blue binder on the table. “But there is nothing here about forty thousand dollars.”

I sat down on the crate opposite her, the wooden slats creaking under my weight.

“Richard is in town,” I said.

Diana stopped twirling her yellow pencil and looked up at me, her brow furrowing.

“Clara’s ex-husband?” Diana continue reading …