The Dog Pulled Her Away From the Door—Seconds Later, It Slammed Shut by Itself

Caleb stared into his own cargo space.

"That's not mine."

Mason gave him a flat look. "It's in your vehicle."

"Someone put it there."

"Convenient."

"I didn't even know Claire's spare key was missing."

Claire did.

She had noticed it two days earlier, but she had blamed herself. Pregnancy brain, she'd thought. She had spent ten minutes checking drawers before giving up.

Now she backed away from Caleb.

"Don't," he said.

"Don't what?"

"Look at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like you think I hurt him."

Mason placed Caleb in the back of the cruiser while the second deputy searched the SUV.

Claire stood beside the barn with Scout pressed against her leg.

Her phone buzzed again.

UNKNOWN NUMBER.

CHECK THE BLUE TACK BOX. BEFORE THE POLICE DO.

Claire looked toward the tack room.

She should have told Mason immediately.

Instead, she slipped inside.

The blue tack box had belonged to her grandmother. It sat under a stack of saddle pads, exactly where it had always been.

Claire opened it.

Inside was a sealed envelope with her name on it in Noah's handwriting.

Her knees nearly gave out.

She tore it open.

Claire,

If you're reading this, I failed to keep this away from you. I'm sorry. There are two copies of the ledger. One is insurance. The other is leverage. Caleb has neither. Whatever happens, do not tell anyone about the red mare's stall.

I love you. I love the life we were going to have.

—N

Claire's eyes filled.

The red mare's stall.

Her grandmother's last horse, Ruby, had died six years earlier. The stall had been boarded shut since then.

A floorboard creaked behind her.

Claire turned.

Mason stood in the doorway.

"What did you find?"

She hesitated.

Then Scout, outside, erupted into furious barking.

A truck engine roared from the rear pasture.