Chapter 1 - The Kitchen at Dawn
I stood in the shadowed hallway of Diane’s house, watching the amber sunrise bleed across the marble kitchen floor.
The sound of their laughter hit my ears like cold water, but my breathing stayed completely steady.
Tyler pulled Brooke closer by the waist, kissing her again with a slow, practiced familiarity that made my stomach tighten.
Brooke leaned into his touch, her fingers resting lightly on the gray T-shirt I had folded and placed in his drawer two days ago.
"Did you make sure the notary stamp was backdated to last month?" Brooke asked, pulling back slightly to look at Tyler.
"My buddy in Petaluma handled it for five hundred cash," Tyler said, lifting his champagne flute to clink against hers.
Diane took a slow sip, adjusting the belt of her silk robe as she looked down at the documents spread across the island.
"Once they say their vows at six-thirty, the legal entity becomes effective immediately," Diane said, her voice dripping with triumphant vanity. "With Nora’s forged power of attorney already filed in the county recorder's queue, the commercial transfer clears before the banks open on Monday."
"And the developer from San Francisco?" Brooke asked, her eyes glittering with naked greed.
"Seven point two million," Diane smiled, tracing the red line that cut directly through my grandmother's Honeycrisp trees. "Three ways. Tyler and I keep five, and you get two point two for playing the devoted maid of honor."
"I earned every penny of it," Brooke scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Do you have any idea how exhausting it was listening to her cry over cake tastings and floral arrangements?"
Tyler laughed, kissing Brooke's forehead. "You were brilliant, babe. She never suspected a thing."
I reached into my pocket and slipped out my phone, pressing the silent shutter button three times.
The high-resolution lens captured the aerial map, the forged power of attorney with my forged signature, and Tyler's hand resting on Brooke's lower back.
My hands did not shake.
For eight years at Ashworth Forensic Group, I had examined fraudulent ledgers, altered contracts, and forged signatures for corporate litigation.
I knew how to recognize a crime, and I knew how to preserve evidence.
I stepped backward through the dark hallway, moving with the quiet grace of a ghost, turning the brass deadbolt until the lock caught without a sound.
Outside, the cool morning air of Healdsburg tasted sharp and clean.
I climbed into my Honda Accord, placed the phone on the passenger seat, and backed down the driveway with the headlights off.
May you like
My grandmother had told me to wake up early and see everything.
I had seen enough to burn their world to the ground.
