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I read the message from the bank at six in the morning. My name was written on it. My address.

At that same moment I called the hospital director. “No one is to enter my house until the lawyer arrives,”

“And in the application she indicated that you had paid her debt,” Marian finished. The phone froze in my hand.

The document said: “Hanna Bell.” Hanna was the forty-two-year-old manager of my shop. The woman I had

“We should have the recording too,” I told Rachel. It was six o’clock in the morning. In the small hotel

“Who was it?” the warden asked me. I put the phone into my pocket. “The lawyer for the homebuyers’ association.

I stopped where I was at Robert’s final words. “In her name?” “That’s what she said. She also requested

Patricia had not yet finished speaking when the telephone rang in her office. “It is the county investigator,” she said.

I brought the phone to my ear, but for several seconds I could not make a sound. The back door.

At Harlan’s last words, Vicky almost dropped the phone from her hand. Her lawyer was no longer on the line.