Chương 2
Ethan glanced toward his grandfather, waiting for the correction Walter had always provided whenever the world displeased him. Walter was the man who fixed wrong restaurant orders, disputed surprise fees, called school administrators by their first names, and spoke to mechanics until they found a less expensive explanation. He had made competence look like a form of love.
This time, he said nothing.
Derek shut the SUV hatch harder than necessary.
“Everybody back in,” he said.
Ava stood. “You don’t get to give instructions.”
His face tightened. “The kids shouldn’t be standing in the driveway while we do this.”
“Do what?”
“Whatever this is.”
“You knew the key worked.”
“I knew he had keys.”
“You told me the lockbox company had probably changed the code.”
“I thought they had.”
“You used a side-door key before Marcus finished checking the property record.”
Derek rubbed a hand over his mouth. He looked toward the children, then toward Walter.
That was enough.
Ava felt the first clean edge of betrayal enter the confusion.
“How long?” she asked.
Derek did not answer.
“How long have you known?”
“I didn’t know she still owned it.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
Lily began crying without making a sound. Tears slipped down her face while she stared at the photograph in her arms. It was the kind of crying Ava feared most because it meant the child was trying not to create one more problem.
Marcus noticed too. He stepped between Ava and Derek, not dramatically, just enough to interrupt their line of sight.
“I’ll get the luggage back in,” he said. “Ava, take the kids to the car.”
“I can do it,” Derek said.
“No,” Ava replied.
She touched Lily’s shoulder. The girl resisted for half a second, then let Ava guide her toward the second row. Ethan followed, dragging his suitcase until one wheel caught against the brass key ring.
He looked down.
Walter moved forward.
Ethan picked up the keys first.
He held them out to Ava, not his father or grandfather.
She took them and put them in her dress pocket.
The nearest hotel with two available rooms was twenty-seven minutes away, according to Marcus’s phone. During the drive, the children sat in the back of Ava’s SUV, silent except when Ethan asked whether someone could go to jail for staying in the wrong house. Ava said she did not know. Lily turned the framed photograph facedown on her knees.
Derek drove behind them with Walter.
Marcus sat in the passenger seat, his phone plugged into the dashboard. He did not speak until they had left the lake road and reached the wider county highway.
“I should tell you how I found it,” he said.
Ava kept both hands on the wheel. “You searched the address.”
“I searched the parcel history.”
“Why?”
“Because the lockbox company’s email bothered me.”
“What part?”
“The part where they said the account had been inactive since February.”
“That’s when she died.”
“Yes.”
Ava glanced at him. “You knew?”
“I knew the name from the email. I searched an obituary while you were arguing with the service representative.”
“And you didn’t tell me?”
“You were already on the road. I thought it might be a widow’s account that never got updated.”
“That was generous.”
“It was possible.”
“No, it was what I wanted to be possible.”
Marcus watched the highway ahead. He had worked with Ava for eleven years, first at the regional property company where they met, then at Mercer Lodging after Walter persuaded her to join the family business. Marcus was cautious in the way of men who had been blamed for other people’s haste. He kept receipts. He backed up files. He still wore a wedding ring although he and his wife had lived separately for nearly a year, because removing it felt to him like announcing a decision they had not fully made.
“What else did you search?” Ava asked.
“Only the public records.”
“Marcus.”
He exhaled. “There was no transfer. No mortgage in Walter’s name. The taxes have been paid from an account ending in four-one-six-two.”
“Whose?”
“The county site doesn’t show that.”
“But you looked.”
“I looked at the property address in our accounting system.”
Ava’s foot eased off the accelerator.
“You found it?”
“Not the house. A vendor entry.”
“What vendor?”
“Shaw Residential Holdings.”
The children were quiet behind them. Ava checked the rearview mirror. Ethan was watching the trees. Lily’s head rested against the window.
“Why would a company owned by a dead woman be in our accounting system?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“Do we pay them?”
“There were transfers both directions.”
Ava gripped the wheel. “From Mercer Lodging?”
“From older entities too.”
“How old?”
“Before I joined.”
The road curved. A pickup approached in the opposite lane, sunlight flashing across its windshield.
Ava said, “Did Walter know you were coming today?”
“Yes.”
“Did Derek?”
“Yes.”
“And neither objected.”
“No.”
“Then either they thought there was an explanation, or they thought you wouldn’t look.”
Marcus rubbed the edge of his phone case with his thumb. “You hired me because I look.”
“I know.”
“They know too.”
The hotel stood beside an outlet mall and advertised lake views, though the lake was visible only from the upper floors beyond a six-lane road. Ava booked two connecting rooms under Marcus’s name. She did not want the Mercer surname entered anywhere until she understood whether Evelyn Shaw’s family had reported trespassers.
At the front desk, Ethan stared at a rotating rack of postcards. Lily kept the photograph under one arm.
Walter entered behind Derek and tried to hand Ava his credit card.
She did not take it.
“I can cover the rooms,” he said.
“No.”
“This is unnecessary.”
“What part?”
“The secrecy. Marcus’s name. Treating us like fugitives.”
Ava looked at him. “Are we?”
Walter’s mouth formed a thin line.
The desk clerk pretended to study the printer.
May you like
Derek stepped closer. “Not here.”
Ava nearly laughed. Not because anything was funny, but because Derek still believed there was a place where this could be safely discussed. A better room. A closed door. Somewhere the truth would become manageable if only the correct people were excluded.
