"I know."
"He ate dinner at our house last month. He helped carry Mom's old china cabinet upstairs."
"I know."
"And now he's using Dad's loading door like he owns it."
I had no answer. Colin was thirty-two, a restless man who worked short construction jobs, sold used equipment online, and always seemed to be waiting for his real career to begin. We'd never been close, but I'd lent him tools and helped repair his truck the previous winter. It hadn't occurred to me that he might be involved in something like this.
Nora said she'd call after the inventory. I thanked her and hung up. My phone showed thirteen missed calls from Tessa. I read the messages she had sent since midnight, which shifted from indignation to concern to a more calculating form of reassurance.
This is a misunderstanding. Adrian doesn't know the whole arrangement.
You agreed we'd look at options for the collection.
Nobody is stealing anything. It's being transferred for appraisal.
You're going to embarrass yourself if you involve the police.
Please answer before somebody makes this irreversible.
I replied once. I did not authorize removal or consignment. I am preserving all correspondence. Please do not access the workshop or communicate with transport staff on my behalf.
She called immediately. I let it ring. Then the hotel phone rang, surprising me. The desk clerk apologized and said a woman claiming to be my partner was asking whether I'd checked into another room. I told her not to disclose any information and thanked her for checking. After hanging up, I stood at the window and looked down at the river, too restless to sit still.