“Of course Quinn and I won’t say anything. But you’re going to have to tell them sooner or later,” I’d said.

“I know. I’ll do it. But not right now.”

And we’d left it at that.

“I’ll let Kellie know that you said she should take time off,” Victoria was saying. “This is going to be…”

She, too, seemed to be struggling for words. Finally she said, “Difficult.”

Especially if you lie about what happened.

I smiled and said, “The Averys are tough. I think that’s one trait both our families share.”

Victoria looked puzzled. “Both which families?”

“The Averys and the Montgomerys,” I said.

“Are you implying that you’re … related?”

“That’s right,” I said. “In fact, Prescott brought it up it up this afternoon.”

“How did this happen?” Victoria looked as if I’d just told her the Averys were related to direct descendants of Jack the Ripper.

“A couple of generations ago a Montgomery married an Avery.”

For a split second I thought she looked relieved. “So you’re not close relatives.”

“I can’t even do the math to figure out how many times removed we are.”

She smiled and I realized she was relieved.

Prescott hadn’t been dead more than a couple of hours. Was Victoria worried about relatives like us—known and unknown—coming out of the woodwork to find out whether we might benefit from his will and substantial wealth?

Quinn touched my elbow. “Sweetheart.”

“I know.”

Victoria walked over to the door and started to open it.

“Wait,” I said.

She turned around and this time her annoyance and impatience were obvious. Even Quinn frowned at me.

“What is it?” he said.

Prescott’s crystal cane with its elegant family crest engraved on the silver handle—his magic wand—stood propped in an umbrella stand that was part of an antique mahogany hall rack.

“That’s Prescott’s cane,” I said. “How did it get here?”

Victoria’s eyes went to the cane and she waved a hand, unfazed. “That cane? He always left it here so he could take it when he went out. It was one of his favorites.”

It seemed strange to hear her speak of Prescott in the past tense.

“But he was using it today,” I said. “He had it when we went downstairs. He even joked about taking the elevator because we both use canes.”

Victoria shook her head. “He had more than one silver-and-crystal cane, Lucie. Believe me, Prescott was quite the collector. And that included beautiful and expensive canes like this one.”

She was reading from Clayton’s playbook; that was obvious. What had Prescott told me earlier? They think I’m chasing unicorns, spending their inheritance with the things I collect. That’s why he’d sworn me to secrecy about the Jefferson copy of the Declaration of Independence and the other items he’d purchased.