Going to jail was not among the goals Emily and Becca had scoped out for themselves when they’d started their business. “Don’t worry yet. I have no idea what it’s worth or how he got it. So far, all I’ve done is look at some of the stuff.”

“What kind of stuff is it?”

“Books. Doorknobs.”

“Doorknobs?” Frank’s face lit up.

“Boxes of them. You’d go nuts. And . . .” She hesitated. Was she betraying client confidentiality by sharing with him what she’d found?

“This is Mandarin Cliffs?”

“No. Our other client. The widow with the dead husband’s storage unit.”

“Well, for the time being, be careful not to remove anything. Taking possession—”

“Shit,” Emily said under her breath, remembering the document tube.

“You took something?” Frank said. He sounded astonished.

“I didn’t mean to,” Emily said. “I’ve got it in the car.”

“And it’s valuable?”

“I have no idea. Maybe. I should run it back right now. I’ve got the key—” She tried to remember where she’d put the padlock key. She checked her pants pockets before remembering that it had fallen on the floor of Quinn’s garage. Quinn had picked it up and dropped it in her gear bag. “I’ll drive—”

“Drive? I don’t think so. You get stopped, I doubt you’d pass a Breathalyzer.”

“You can tell?”

“It’s pretty obvious. Besides, it’s late. No one’s going to arrest you for holding on to it overnight.”

Emily didn’t need convincing. She was exhausted and still feeling queasy.

“And keep in mind,” Frank added, “I’m being pretty cautious with my legal advice. If what’s in that storage unit was acquired aboveboard and legally, you’re good to go. If not, and if it’s worth a significant amount of money, then you need to protect yourself. That’s why you have insurance. And lucky you, you also have free in-house counsel. If it comes to that.” Frank took another drink of coffee. “Thanks for this. I’ve got a few more hours before I can turn in. You get in bed.”

“Don’t forget about the auction,” Emily said.

“I won’t.” He opened his computer and glanced at the screen. “When it’s over, I’ll come up and tuck you in.”

Upstairs, Emily peeled off her coffee-stained T-shirt and pants and left them on the bathroom floor. She pulled on a nightgown and began to brush her teeth. She thought about the storage unit and its contents. There were plenty of reasons a man might not want his wife to know about his collections. It depended on their relationship, and Emily knew nothing about the Murphys’ marriage. She hoped that Mrs. Murphy’s husband had acquired his treasures legitimately. But if he had, why keep them hidden?