This was not a movie.
No secret door opened.
I almost laughed.
Then I noticed the camera mounted beneath the shelf.
A small home-security camera.
Pointed at the desk.
Not the room.
The desk.
Why would Preston record himself working?
I removed the memory card.
Behind the camera was a key taped to the wall.
The key opened the bottom drawer of his desk.
Inside was a folder marked:
RMV
My initials.
The first page was my insurance policy.
The second was a copy of my grandmother’s trust.
The third was something I did not understand.
A letter.
Typed.
Unsigned.
Upon confirmation of Renee Vale’s death prior to her fortieth birthday, the Mercer family holding provision becomes operative.
Trustee authority returns in full to Deborah Mercer pending reassignment.
My hands went cold.
Deborah.
My mother.
I read further.
Spousal reimbursement petition may be filed separately.
Expected settlement value contingent upon cooperation of trustee.
Cooperation of trustee.
My stomach twisted.
Then a floorboard creaked downstairs.
I froze.
Someone was in the house.
I shoved the documents into my jacket.
Footsteps entered the hallway.
I looked toward the window.
Second floor.
Too high.
Closet.
No.
Bathroom.
No.
