Chapter 17: The Locks

Sam's POV

I drove to Blackstone Boulevard with Kerry's hand in mine.

My pager was in my pocket, and I had silenced it twice.

A moving truck stood in front of the Thornbury house with its back door open.

Two men in gray coveralls carried a white sofa up the front steps.

On the porch, a locksmith knelt at the door with a drill.

Constance stood in the doorway in her green dress and her cane, and she did not move out of it.

Margo stood two steps below her in the cream suit.

She held a leather folder against her chest, and I knew the folder from the way Kerry's fingers tightened.

Behind Constance, in the hall, Dawson stood with his hands at his sides.

He had not been to bed.

A patrol officer waited at the bottom of the steps, writing something on a pad.

"Spouse has a right to enter the marital residence, ma'am," the officer said to Constance. "It's a civil matter."

"This is my house," Constance said.

"And I live in it," Margo said, kindly. "As Mr. Thornbury's wife."

"I don't consent," Dawson said, from the hall.

"I know, darling. It doesn't matter."

She said it warmly, and she did not look at him.

The locksmith's drill whined, and the old brass lock came out of the door in pieces.

Kerry took one step forward.

I kept her hand.

"Wait," I said, low.

"She's taking the house."

"She's filming," I said. "Look at the phone on the porch rail."

A small phone leaned against a flowerpot with its camera lens pointed at the door.

Keep reading free with an account. Start He Made Her His Bride to Punish Me for Jealousy from Chapter 1, then sign up free to read the rest of this chapter.