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“I haven’t read the will,” Andy told Clark.

“But you know what’s in it.” Clark shrugged. “Of course you do. If there’s a will, and I guess there is, he’s leaving it all to you. No surprise there.”

“Clark, what are youtalkingabout? There’s no will! And if there was a will,whywould Cuthbert leave everything to Andy? Andy hasn’t bothered to come back in years.We’rethe ones who’ve taken care of Uncle all this time.We’rethe ones who’velooked out for his interests. He spends holidays withus. Not Andy. Why are you buying into his nonsense?”

Clark said wearily, “Give it a rest, Fleur.”

Fleur’s face tightened, but she folded her lips on her first reply. Instead, she summoned a fierce little smile. “Well, you two seem to think you’ve worked it all out. We’ll just have to speak to Cutty’s lawyer. In the meantime, I suppose you might as well stay here, Andrew. Until we have a definitive answer.”

“Gosh, thanks, Fleur.”

He’d always known Fleur didn’t care for him, but the look she shot him then was pure poison. Well, the feeling was mutual.

But why was Fleur so frantic about the will? It wasn’t like Uncle C. had millions to leave to his heirs. Frankly, it was more likely he’d be leaving a pile of debt behind. The whole situation was very odd. As was the defeated look in Clark’s eyes. What in the world was going on with the two of them?

Clark took Fleur’s arm. “Come on, Fleur. We’ve done enough damage.”

Fleur freed herself, her expression indignant. “Damage?How is looking after Uncle’s interests doing damage?”

She was still arguing as Clark herded her out the door into the cold night air. Neither of them spoke to or acknowledged Andy. He stood in the open doorway, listening to them clomp down the narrow wooden steps.

“Thanks for all your support in there,” Fleur said bitterly as they reached the bottom.

Clark’s reply was too quiet to make out.

Andy shut the door and returned to his now crispified casserole. He plated his meal, poured a glass of wine, and settled in front of the television, but was too preoccupied with his thoughts to pay attention to the broadcast.

What a god-awful, never-ending day.

He kept thinking it couldn’t get worse, and yet it kept getting worse.

He sighed, drained his wineglass, poured a second glass, and felt a little better.

Tomorrow he would tackle inventorying the shop, but if his cursory glance through the last few days of shipping invoices meant anything, Uncle C.’s accounting methods had not improved over the years.

Which meant…

Maybe nothing. It was still hard to believe that Uncle C. could have acquired something so valuable, it could put his life in danger. It was equally difficult to believe someone might mistakenly believe Uncle C. had acquired such an object.

The truth was, he was too tired to think straight. He needed a good night’s sleep, and then maybe some of this would make sense.

A sound from downstairs caught his attention. Andy lowered the TV volume. Through the floorboards, he could hear the phone in Uncle C.’s office ringing.

It was now after seven o’clock. Late for customers to be phoning. His stomach knotted. Another message from Marcus?

God. Hopefully not. Hopefully Marcus would accept that it was over.

But that was what was so confusing. Even though Marcus seemed to despise him most of the time, whenever Andy broached the topic of ending things, Marcus zigzagged from outraged to brokenhearted.

Originally Andy had hoped they could part on amicable terms, but he’d given up on that idea, and now he just wanted out. Period. Whatever it took. Whatever it cost.

That didn’t mean he wasn’t afraid. He was. Marcus was dangerous. Friday’s farewell proved that. Marcus had said hewould kill Andy if he left, and Andy believed in that moment Marcus had meant it.

When Marcus sobered up, he might not feel the same, but these days Marcus was frequently not sober.

So yes, Andy was worried and nervous and jumpy as a cat. Between worry over Uncle C., violent break-ins, and the fear that Marcus might show up, he had plenty to be worried about.

Wine or no wine, he was pretty sure he would not be able to sleep much.