Free The Betrayed by Jana DeLeon Page B

with the right someone.
    Like with Zach.
    “I will call Carter anytime I’m unnerved,” Danae promised, trying to block all thoughts of Zach from her mind.
    “Well, the connection is getting worse, so I guess I better let you go. Stay safe, Danae.”
    “You, too.” Danae waited until the call dropped then placed her cell phone on the counter.
    The cheese and butter still sat on the cabinet where she’d left them earlier, but all thoughts of food had flown from her mind during Alaina’s call. She stuck the items back into the refrigerator and grabbed a bottle of water. On the upside, between general anxiety and skipping meals, it would be no time before she worked off those ten pounds she’d gained working at the café.
    She set the water on the tiny breakfast table and slid into a chair. Her shoulder bag lay at the edge of the table, a stack of manila folders peeking out from underneath. It was all she’d grabbed from Purcell’s office when she and Zach had investigated the noise. She could have made another trip before leaving, but the thought of going back into that room had overcome logic, and she’d left with only what she’d brought down that first trip.
    Still, even a couple of files were enough to start working with. A couple of hours billed meant the day wouldn’t be a complete loss. She pulled the folders over in front of her. A bunch of old paperwork should take her mind off things, maybe even bore her enough that she could sleep.
    The first folder contained a list of household purchases made several months after her mother’s death, and the costs—bread, milk, cereal, butter, toilet paper—all seemed like basic domestic stuff and not at all what William was looking for. The next five pages were more of the same, the date of the weekly trip noted in the upper left of each sheet of paper. It wasn’t useful for the lawyer’s purposes, but it did give Danae an insight into how her stepfather had lived.
    Sighing, she flipped through the rest of the pages in the first folder, finding nothing of interest. It made no sense to her that her stepfather had access to all her mother’s wealth, but had locked himself away in that monstrosity of a house and, based on this paperwork, lived on a diet of cereal and toast.
    The second folder contained more itemized shopping lists, but these were completely different from the others. A quick check of the date let her know that the purchases were made months before her mother’s death. The lists contained all the things she’d expect a household with three young children to have and stood in stark contrast to the lists in the previous folder.
    The last pages contained in the folder appeared to be an investment account statement. Her eyes widened at the balance in the account, and she had to take a minute to remind herself that William had already told her the estate’s holdings were significant. Still, hearing it and seeing it on paper were two completely different things. All her life, she’d gotten by on very little. It was next to impossible to imagine such riches that one no longer considered price.
    She scanned the entries and found a few that might interest William. A vase that cost eight thousand dollars with the notation “Ming Dynasty.” A two-thousand-dollar purchase for a grandfather clock. A three-thousand-dollar Persian rug.
    Shaking her head, she tried to wrap her mind around the valuables the house contained under all those layers of dust and grime. Assuming the items weren’t damaged, it might be akin to a museum when clean. She flipped the page over and scanned the next one, hoping to find more nuggets for William, but this page didn’t contain any large expenses. She checked the dates and frowned. It was the week her mother died.
    Determined not to let it affect her, she flipped to the next page and scanned until she found four twenty-thousand-dollar entries. Funeral expenses, maybe. But when she read the notations, her head started to