“I see,” I said. “Well, I hope you got a good price.”
“Don’t worry about the numbers. Just pack your things and be out by next Friday. Leave the keys on the kitchen island. The new owners want to begin demolition immediately.”
“Thanks for letting me know,” I said. “Goodbye, Eleanor.”
I ended the call and set the phone down.
Then I laughed.
Not because anything was funny, but because I had just heard the sound of a trap closing. Eleanor had always mistaken silence for surrender. She never understood that some people go quiet because they are calculating.
I called Benjamin Vance. He answered on the second ring, calm and almost amused.
“Harper. I wondered how long she would wait.”
“She did it,” I said, looking out at my father’s rose garden. “She actually signed papers to sell the house.”
A dry note entered his voice.
