Buried Betrayal on Eight Hundred Acres 34

I expected a threat.

I expected her to ask how much I knew and whether I planned to talk.

Instead, she said, “Do not go back to that house alone. Not today. Not for any reason.”

My fingers tightened around the phone.

“Why?”

“Because there was a second attachment,” she said.

I looked at my laptop on the hotel desk.

The folder was open.

Deed transfer.

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