Page 51

I park out front of the Hall maybe there are other treasures here forme?

The top right drawer has a bunch of ties I had bought him for the next time he spilled coffee or chewed through the ink cartridge on a pen.

I pull out my favorite one, pale purple with tiny dogs on it.

My subtle hint that maybe we could have a dog.

Will missed the intimation. The lower drawers are full of random files that I’m sure give Lenore a headache.

But when I slide open the bottom right drawer, something catches my eye.

There’s a folder with the logo from Mia’s school on it.

Odd.

Constance is the keeper of Mia’s stuff at school.

That was decided on in the divorce. And this folder looks “school official.” I pull it out, flip it open, and find a bunch of papers about the Martinez case with Will’s sloppy handwriting all over them.

There’s a page of what looks like phone numbers, or maybe account numbers.

I am reading so fast and it’s all so jumbled and I’m terrified that Lenore is coming back in here—I can hear her squeaky pumps heading down the hallway.

I close the folder and shove it into my bag and start winding up the ties that I’ve pulled from the other drawer. Lenore walks in with a small box and a big box.

“Sorry about that—nervous client. I wasn’t sure what size box you needed?”

“Oh, the small one should work.”

I put the ties in the box, walk over to the shelf, and start pulling down some pictures, some awards of Will’s. None of these are things I even sort of need to memorialize Will, but that is beside the point.

I need to fill this box to hide what I’m sneaking off with.

I grab a photo of Will and Fritz. They’re younger and Fritz’s face is thinner—he looks almost fit. Both are smiling wide and full of vim and vigor.

“I always loved that one,” Lenore pipes up.

“Really? Why?”

“It was taken right after they won their first big case. They were so proud. It was a good day.”

I thumb the picture frame and add it to the box. “Seems like they had easier times back then.”

“Everything is easy in the beginning.”

Tell me about it.

She lingers in the doorway, and I know this is my chance.

“I have to ask,” I say. “I feel like things got worse since this Martinez case happened. Or maybe I was just misreading things?”

“Every case is a living, breathing organism, Nora. They take on lives of their own. It’s not always easy to navigate through them.”

“Right. Of course. I just wonder if it was something bigger. More than just the case?”

Lenore straightens up a little. “I’m not sure why you’re worried about any of these things now, Nora. Fritz will handle all that.”

Shit. I’ve lost her.

“Oh, I know. I was curious because I know they were struggling—”

“Nothing they wouldn’t have figured out. I’m sorry for all of this, Nora. I’m sorry that you’re stuck in the middle. I saw that the police had brought you in for questioning.”

She’s showing me who is boss.

“Just some routine things,” I say.

“Have you found the pictures you want? I think we should close up this office and let Fritz get all of the work files out of here before you come back.”

“Yeah. I just wanted these few things.”

I pick up the box and add my bag to it. I feel like Lenore is eyeing it, wishing she had X-ray vision to see inside. I shift the box on my hip so that my bag slides deeper inside.

“Thank you so much, Lenore. I’ll head out.”

I walk out of the building to my car, adrenaline surging as I put the box on the floor of the passenger side. As I walk around to the driver’s side, I look up at the window and see Autumn.

What’s she doing at the firm now? I’m sure they can’t be throwing a party so soon after Will’s funeral.

She must be carrying out one of Gianna’s insane quarterly design and décor updates to Fritz’s office, or changing out the flowers.

Will and Fritz had asked Lenore to do that exactly one time before, and she had let the flowers wilt until someone commented about the smell, making it clear that she was the gatekeeper. Not the gardener.

I shake it off and get in the car. I’ve got a file burning a hole in my bag.

—

Once I’m home, I use our dining room table to spread out every single piece of paper from the random folder I swiped.

Most of it doesn’t make sense to me. But one page has what I think is an account number circled and Dean?

written next to it. Another paper seems to be some email regarding the Martinez case that is so steeped in legalese it’s lost on me, but at the bottom of the page, something catches my eye.

Scrawled in Will’s handwriting it just says: Talk to Autumn.

Autumn? Was that just a random side note about something else? His party, maybe?

The French door by the pool opens, and Este comes throughit.

“You’re back. What did you find? I’ve been texting you and you didn’t answer.”

“Sorry, I found a folder. Something about this Martinez case, but of course, thanks to Will’s chaotic organization, I don’t really get what any of it is. I think this might be an account number. I texted it to Perry. We’ll see.”

“Look at you, Angela Lansbury. That transition from wife to retired widow detective happened fast.”

“Shut up. Something strange is going on, and I have to figure out what.”

“I mean. Fritz is an ass, but do you really think he’s a killer?” Este surveys my haul.

I shake my head and say, “I don’t know. But, more important, why did Will hire a PI from his hometown?

Someone who would be loyal to him? Someone with no ties to Winter Park?

” She’s turning this over when I add, “Fritz is friendly with every cop, every judge, every anyone that matters. If Will was looking into him with someone local, Fritz would have found out.”

“But they all liked Will better. The ones with taste anyway.”

“This must have been too serious to take the chance.”

“You think Will had something on Fritz and Fritz found out?”

“It would have to be big. No chance Fritz could run that firm without Will. And he knows it. He always left his biggest messes for Will to clean up.”

I flip another piece of paper over and see a note around some circled numbers: Autumn. I don’t make a thing of it, don’t show it to Este. I can’t listen to her long list of grievances against Autumn.

“What’s this?” Este pulls at a little piece of something that is stuck to the inside of one of the folder pockets and holds up a grainy photograph of a very cozy-looking Fritz and Autumn. I snatch it from her.

Autumn and Fritz?

I drop the photo back on the table like it might be hot to the touch. “Holy. Shit.”

Este huffs out a short guffaw.

They’re having an affair? For how long? And why the fuck would Autumn do that to herself? And if Will knew, how does this factor into all of the fights Will and Fritz had been having?

“Wish that was surprising, but I told you I didn’t like her,” Este says, looking satisfied that we’ve finally found the perfect evidence to justify her Autumn hating. She flips through some of the other papers on the table.

“Hey, listen, I need to run an errand. I’ll be back in a little bit. Okay?” I scoop up the files and start shoving them back into the folder and then into my bag.

“An errand? Really?”

I pause, then say, “I just need to go see about something. I’ve got a hunch.”

“Now you have hunches? We’re doing hunches? Should I buy you a trench coat?”

I don’t respond. I’m already halfway to the door when she calls, “Just be careful, okay?”