Six Vintage Dresses Left in a Cedar Trunk on Oak Street

thumb rapidly against her phone screen, her fingernails ragged and short. I walked over to the row of brass wood screws, away from the young man working the register.

“We found the purchase agreement, Clara,” I said quietly. “The one with Arthur Vance’s name on it.”

Clara let out a short, ragged breath and leaned against a display of garden hoses. “He continue reading …