I looked at her.
“It isn’t trapped.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I don’t think I do.”
She smiled.
Cordelia had perfected that smile over sixty-three years.
It never reached her eyes.
“You and Flynn don’t need a lake house.”
“I grew up there.”
“And now you’re grown.”
I said nothing.
“Flynn mentioned the estate taxes.”
“They’re handled.”
“Maintenance?”
“Handled.”
“Staff?”
“Handled.”
Her smile tightened.
“Everett certainly planned well.”
“He did.”
Cordelia turned her spoon slowly between her fingers.
“What else did he leave you?”
That should have been the moment I became suspicious.
Instead, I was grieving.
I told myself she was merely curious.
“Some investments.”
“How much?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“That seems strange.”
“Not really.”
“And the jewelry?”
My hand went unconsciously to the emerald pendant at my throat.
Grandfather had given it to me at the reading of his will.
