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“You probably should,” she said. “Eventually.”
“Eventually?”
“Not before you look in your safe.”
My eyes shifted toward the hallway.
We had a safe in the back of the coat closet. Fireproof, heavy, bolted into the floor. Lucas kept passports there, insurance documents, property papers, birth certificates. I hadn’t opened it in months.
“What’s in my safe?”
“That depends on what he removed.”
I swallowed.
“Removed?”
“Lucas was at your house yesterday afternoon while you were at the dentist.”
I said nothing.
I had gone to the dentist at two. Lucas had told me he was at the office tying up loose ends before his so-called international transfer.
“He left with a folder,” Grace said. “Blue. Legal size.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I was parked outside.”
The anger returned, but now it had nowhere clean to land.
“You were stalking my husband.”
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