Earlier, I decided to show up at the wake for a little while, not that I wanted to but the less attention I draw to myself the better. Joanna was serving tea and drinks, keeping the show on the road. I stood in the corner of the room, feigning heartbreak, shaking the hands of a few relatives when Danny approached.

‘Thanks for showing up, Becca,’ he said. ‘I know it must be hard for you.’

‘I’m doing it for Dad,’ I replied, wondering how the hell he’d know if it was hard for me or not.

When the room got crowded I snuck out the back door and walked the short distance to Danny’s house.

Mrs. Cooper pushes her face up against the glass pane. Her grey hair is standing on her head like a bird’s nest, her skin covered in face powder like a loaf ready to go into the oven. Wrinkles circle her squinting, blue eyes as she strains to see who’s there.

‘It’s me, Mrs. Cooper.’ I wave, smiling.

Her feeble hand struggles to unlock the door but eventually she succeeds.

‘Becca,’ she says. ‘Come in.’

Mrs. Cooper is Joanna’s closest relative living in Boston. I’ve met her at a few family events since Joanna married Danny. She likes me because I always spend time talking to her.

‘How’s Liam?’ I say, walking past her into the hallway. The door on my right is where Danny’s office is. If the note is anywhere, it’s there. He’s not going to leave it lying around for Joanna to find.

‘Were you sent here to check up on me?’ Mrs. Cooper says with a short chuckle.

‘No, not at all, I’m just here to collect something for Danny.’ Walking into the room she came out of, I wait for her to follow. I want to be sure she’s out of the way while I search. ‘He wants me to find a photo of Mom that he thinks is in his office. It’s for the top of the coffin.’ Gosh, twenty-five years living with professional liars has rubbed off on me.

‘I was very sorry to hear about your Mom passing, Becca, she was a lovely woman.’

So she fooled you too, I think. The sound of Liam’s baby snores echo from the monitor on the table. They must have it on full volume.

Mrs. Cooper sits down and I chat to her for a few minutes before saying, ‘I better have a look for this photo.’

‘Do you want me to help you?’

‘No, I’ll be fine, thanks. It’s probably best you stay with the monitor.’

‘Oh yes,’ she says, as if just remembering why she’s there.