Six Vintage Dresses Left in a Cedar Trunk on Oak Street

the windshield at the glass door of the building. The heater in the car hummed quietly, blowing warm air against my ankles.

“They have been in there for forty minutes,” Beatrice said, her voice low and measured. “Richard’s assistant left at five.”

“Are you sure Clara’s car is the red one?” I asked.

“I know my own sister’s car, Martha,” Beatrice said.