“She d/i/e/d seventeen years ago.”
“I’m sorry.”
He nodded once.
“She was sick for a long time. Before she was gone, she told Robert where she had hidden the original account ledger.”
“The thing Samuel wanted.”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
Daniel gave a tired laugh.
“If I knew, Samuel wouldn’t still be searching.”
The lockbox was small enough to hold in two hands.
It required four numbers.
I tried Robert’s birthday.
Nothing.
Our anniversary.
Nothing.
My birthday.
Nothing.
Daniel crouched beside me.
“What about the lake house?”
“What about it?”
He pointed to the photograph from the hotel.
Robert and Daniel stood beside a wooden cabin near a brilliant blue lake.
“Robert took me there every summer.”
“What lake?”
“Lake Geneva.”
“When?”
“Usually August.”
I looked at the photograph again.
There was a sign beside the cabin.
17 WILLOW
