“It’s not like that. Really.” Frank was usually the one who picked up a coffee for her. He even tried to get to the coffee shop before they ran out of her favorite cider donuts dusted with cinnamon sugar.

“Whatever,” Quinn said, giving Emily a skeptical look.

Emily had just enough time to do a quick pee and still make it to the Java Connection before it closed. As she was leaving, Quinn offered her a black plastic controller. “Here’s the remote that opens the garage door. Take it. You’ll be able to get in and out when I’m not here.”

Emily hesitated. “Let’s wait until after we have a signed agreement.” Even then, she doubted that she’d want to come back when Quinn wasn’t here. She didn’t want to run into Wally.

“No worries. It’s a spare. Keep it for now and give it back when we’re done.” Quinn dropped the controller into Emily’s gear bag and walked Emily out to her car.

Emily knew she’d have to find a way to keep Quinn from steamrolling her. Right now she was too woozy to push back.

As Emily started her car, the double doors to the Newells’ garage slid shut and the piles of old furniture and stuffed toys disappeared from view. She pulled away from the curb. Any of the items piled in that garage would have stuck out like a sore thumb in the interior of the Newells’ grand house, loaded as it was with antique and designer furniture, Persian rugs, and a carefully curated selection of vintage advertising. Emily’s and Frank’s tastes weren’t quite as strikingly different, or so she told herself. She could appreciate the Art Deco, machine-age design of a vintage electric fan. Even if it was useless and far from kid-friendly, it was a thing of beauty. It was an entire collection of them that left her cold.