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dropping my purse on the floor. He was obviously annoyed at my cutting him off earlier, but this was uncalled for.
    “Thanks for your time.” I bent down to shove the upended contents back into my bag.
    “I’m sorry. That was rude. I don’t get to work with big-city attorneys that often. I forgot my manners. Please, sit.” He gazed at me with those hazel eyes, and my anger diffused a bit.
    I sat with a huff.
    Garrett rifled through the file on his desk. “Sylvia was working with the historian at the Port Quincy Historical Society, Tabitha Battles. She was going to donate some items from the house, but that will be your call now. She was also consulting with her real estate agent, Zachary Novak. She was trying to decide whether to sell the place. And if I may suggest—”
    “Like I can stop you.”
    He sighed and ran a hand through his dark hair.
    Against my better judgment, I checked out his left hand. No ring. Half point.
    “I deserve that. I suggest you sell the house. Sylvia went into the nursing home half a decade ago, and the house is a disaster. Structurally sound, but a mess. I had the electricity and water turned on for you last week, per Sylvia’s request, but I wouldn’t want to live there.”
    Would Sylvia have told me about the house if we had stopped in to see her two days ago? If I’d been there, could I have saved her? I’m sorry, Sylvia .
    “Mallory?” Rachel placed a hand gently on my arm.
    I must have zoned out for too long. “If the house is in such bad shape, who’d want to buy it?”
    “The land may be more valuable than the house. I know the fracking people were hassling Sylvia about granting a gas lease, but she wouldn’t budge. She tried to set it up so you couldn’t use the land for that purpose—it was her last request, in addition to you getting the house. Of course, being an attorney and all”—his tone was mocking—“you know she couldn’t give you the house with that kind of restrictive covenant. But you should know her wishes, just the same.”
    “Fracking?” Rachel wrinkled her nose at the word. “What is that?”
    “I’ll explain it later.” I was spent, my head spinning. The enormity of Sylvia’s bequest was beginning to sink in. “Thanks for your time, Mr. Davies. If that’s all, I think we’ll be going.” I rose, purse firmly in hand this time.
    “One more thing.” Garrett smirked, undoing my composure. “You’ll need these.” He reached into the accordion file and pulled out an enormous cluster of at least twenty keys looped around a metal ring big enough to fit over my wrist. He dangled them in front of me, in a taunting manner, and I plucked them roughly from his hand.
    “What do these unlock?” I turned the keys over in my hands. Some were modern and others antique, giant copper skeleton keys with thistle handles oxidized to a mint green. There were even miniature silver and gold keys, so delicate I feared I’d bend them.
    “I can’t help you there, but I know this one”—he pointed to a conventional house key—“is for the front and back doors. Sylvia had the locks changed when she moved to the nursing home. This one”—he pointed to a worn brass key, blackened by time—“is for the shed out back. The rest of them? Could be doors within the house, cabinets, maybe jewelry boxes. You’ll have fun exploring.”
    The weighty key ring made my new inheritance unavoidably real. I sank back to my chair for a moment, Rachel and Garrett staring at me.
    “Thank you.” I stood at last. “For arranging this for Sylvia.”
    Garrett Davies gave us a genuine smile for the first time. It nearly knocked me out. “Good luck.” He shook my hand.
    A frisson of electricity went through me as he let go, and I shivered.
    “You’re going to need it.”
    * * *
    “What a jerk face.” I couldn’t get out of Garrett Davies’s office fast enough, but running down three flights of stairs in mismatched heels wasn’t the easiest thing to do.
    “But I