Page 22 of The Right Wrong Promise

I glance at the photo on the desk and sigh.

PopPop and his whole ‘summer crew’—Ethan, Cleo, Hattie, and yours truly. Probably about twelve years ago.

We spent the day hiking the woods, wandering overgrown trails just a few miles from the lake. Ethan tried to scare us with bigfoot stories until PopPop put an end to it.

I’ll never forget the way my grandfather snuck up on him and growled like a cave bear.

The shock knocked the cigarette Ethan shouldn’t have even had right out of his mouth.

I catch myself laughing and shake my head.

This house is a time capsule. Made for memories, not living in the present.

Besides, it’s not like having the Saints here will be a big problem.

It’s a massive place.

I have a feeling they’ll be out during the day plenty, leaving me lots of space and quiet to poke around.

Honestly, the fact that Dadzilla wasn’t livid over the safety tells me a lot.

If it was me, and I’d paid Mrs. Griffith’s princely sum, only to wind up with my daughter falling, I’d be furious.

I’m still embarrassed.

If I knew this place had deteriorated so much in the years since our family trips ended, I’d have had contractors lined up. And I would’ve politely told our kind local property manager to pull the place off the market.

It’s crazy the Saint-devil didn’t threaten to sue.

Huge relief, really.

And drumming aside, his kids don’t seem like they’ll be too awful.

I push back from the desk with a deflated sigh and find my phone, pulling up Jackie Wilkes’ contact. It’s pretty late for the lawyer to be at the office, but we pay her too much not to be available on short notice.

I can’t imagine her at home. She’s a legal killing machine who lives and breathes documents.

Exactly the kind of woman my grandfather would leave in charge of his estate.

“Miss Blackthorn,” she greets me. Her voice is brisk and efficient, no hint of any irritation at calling past eight o’clock. “What can I do you for?”

“I made it to the lake house,” I say, neglecting to mention my guests. “And I’ve read the letter.”

“Excellent. I was going to call you in a few days to make sure you had.”

Yep. Detailed to a fault.

“But I have a few questions… He said there’s something hidden here to find? I’m not sure how to take that, but I wondered if you know anything else about it?”

“Did he? Can you be more specific?”

I wince, remembering the letter was for my eyes only. That probably means Leonidas Blackthorn left no other hints with his lawyer.

“Wish I could. It didn’t really say. Not explicitly, anyway.” I roll my eyes, but a wave of fondness overwhelms me. PopPop had his flaws, but I still love him. “He talked a lot about regrets and he called it his ‘greatest truth.’”

“Curious,” Jackie says. “Well, I have a recent inventory of the house’s contents at the time of his death, and regular updates from the last few months, courtesy of Holden Verity. I can send them over, but I’ve gone through the lists myself. I doubt you’ll find anything too useful there.”

Damn.