Detective Marcus Bennett stood in the hushed grandeur of the Lancaster estate, a world of marble floors and crystal light that smelled faintly of roses and old money. The quiet was almost oppressive, broken only by the distant hum of a grandfather clock.
He checked his watch, then the front door creaked open. Lillian Lancaster entered with the elegance of a woman who had long ago learned how to turn every doorway into a stage. Perfect silver hair, a tailored navy dress, heels clicking a measured rhythm on polished stone. Her smile was warm but wary.
“Detective Bennett,” she said smoothly, extending a hand heavy with rings. “What a surprise. I hope this isn’t about another charity gala—I hardly have the energy.”
“Not quite.” Marcus shook her hand, his grip firm, professional. “I wanted t
