I was the one who found Mrs. Stein’s body two weeks ago. Now here I was, pawing through her things, finally free to explore her creepy old house. It wasn’t personal, though—I had barely known her. And the estate sale was probably her idea, anyway, one last attempt to infuriate her children.
The second I saw the sign, I had to stop. She had been surprisingly paranoid for a hospice patient, and I had never seen anything of her historic Victorian home beyond the downstairs bedroom where she had chosen to spend her remaining days. The chance to explore was just too interesting to pass up. Plus, I’d said...