“Who receives the mail?”
“Caleb started collecting it,” Dad said.
Everyone turned toward him.
He rubbed his forehead.
“He said the bank needed the statements quickly.
He brought us a form to sign so he could pick up certified mail.”
Robert’s gaze sharpened.
“Do you still have that form?”
Dad shook his head.
“Where does Caleb live?”
I asked.
Jessica gave the attorney an address in the next county.
Robert wrote it down.
“Has he contacted either of you today?”
Jessica hesitated.
Her phone buzzed on the workbench.
Nobody moved.
The sound seemed too loud in the quiet room.
Jessica looked at the screen.
“What is it?”
I asked.
She turned the phone toward me.
A text message from Caleb.
We need to talk before Michael contacts the bank.
Don’t let him see the second file.
Jessica’s face went white.
Robert held out his hand.
“May I?”
