“MONDAY?” BECCA SAID. It was nearly half past five, and Emily was sitting in the passenger seat of Becca’s car in front of Mrs. Murphy’s house. “What were you thinking? We’d have to get over to that storage unit tomorrow.”

Emily’s foot hurt. She slipped off one of her Crocs, pulled her foot into her lap, and massaged it. “I thought you wanted as soon as possible.”

“I know, I know that’s what I said. But I didn’t mean tomorrow. It’s Sunday, and besides, I’ve got Makesh’s family coming for brunch.” Becca’s husband had a large extended Indian family, brothers and sisters and their children, but it was his mother, the formidable Lakshmi, who set the bar high when it came to entertaining. “And Sophie has a piano recital. I promised her I’d do her hair and give her a manicure. If I don’t, she’ll have a fit and blame me when she screws up ‘Für Elise.’”

Emily skimmed the list she’d already compiled. The workroom in the garage would be easy to inventory because Mr. Murphy had been a compulsive labeler. Roofing nails had their own container, as did bolts with their nuts attached, as did screws of various sizes. Each of the thirty or so antique rifles and pistols in the basement gun safe had been carefully labeled and documented, too.

“Based on what we’ve seen so far,” Emily said, “this doesn’t look like it’s going to be too complicated. Ballpark three days to sort. Those carved birds could be valuable. I’ll send photos over to Bill and Mary and see what they think.” Bill and Mary owned an art and antiques gallery in Bridgewater and ran regular auctions. “It shouldn’t be hard to find someone to evaluate the guns and tools. Which leaves the boat.”

Becca said, “And whatever’s in that storage unit. That’s the wild card. No estimates until one of us gets in there and takes a good look at what’s what. And if that means going in tomorrow, then it’s got to be you. Though I hate for you to have to do it alone.”

Emily pulled up the picture she’d taken of the storage bill. Units came in different sizes, and based on what Inner Peace was charging—$2,150 for a year’s storage—this one was probably a medium-sized unit. “It’s probably ten-by—”

“Let’s not guess. Remember Mrs. Moore,” Becca said.