“When we cleared out the lake house, I found Dad’s old business papers.”
“You mean my papers.”
“No. I mean Grandpa’s papers. He had correspondence from Daniel Mercer.”
Richard went pale.
“That’s impossible.”
“Apparently not.”
I leaned toward the phone.
“Michael?”
“Yes?”
“This is Victoria.”
His voice softened.
“I’m sorry. This is probably strange.”
“Today has established a fairly high standard for strange.”
Ethan laughed.
Michael did too.
“I suppose Ethan told you about the agreement.”
“Yes.”
“There’s something else.”
Richard leaned closer.
“What?”
“A letter from Daniel.”
“To your grandfather?”
“Yes.”
Richard looked at me.
“Why would Daniel write my father?”
Michael shuffled papers.
“Because Grandpa tried to return something.”
“What?”
“Money.”
Nobody spoke.
Michael continued.
“Apparently after you bought Daniel out, Grandpa thought the amount was unfair.”
Richard shook his head slowly.
“My father never said anything.”
“He told Daniel he wanted to personally make up part of the difference.”
“That sounds like Grandpa,” Ethan murmured.
Richard seemed shaken.
“What did Daniel do?”
“Refused it.”
I almost smiled.
That sounded like my father too.
Michael continued.
“But he asked Grandpa to do something else.”
“What?”
“Preserve the original Larksburg plans.”
I looked around the room.
“They’re here.”
“Not all of them.”
I frowned.
“What does that mean?”
“There was a second parcel.”
Richard stood so quickly his chair scraped backward.
“No.”
Michael stopped.
“What?”
Richard walked to the faded county map.
He stared at the northwest corner of the neighborhood.
“The Miller tract.”
I joined him.
