had been with me since my second restaurant opened.
He answered on the third ring.
“Daniel?” he said, surprised. “Are you back in the States?”
“I am. I need you at the Dallas house tomorrow morning.”
There was a pause.
“Is everything all right?”
I looked at my family standing in the hallway, each of them listening too closely.
“No,” I said. “Bring copies of every power of attorney, property authorization, trust document, wire approval, and household payroll record connected to my family or my residence for the past five years.”
My mother’s face changed.
Samuel was silent for half a second too long.
Then he said, “Daniel, we should speak privately.”
My heartbeat slowed.
Not because I felt calm.
Because a door had opened somewhere, and I could sense darkness behind it.
“We will,” I said. “Tomorrow.”
I hung up.
Michael pushed himself off the wall. “You’re seriously calling
