Isla arrived at the warehouse before dawn with a leather folder under her arm and dark circles under her eyes. She hadn't slept either, judging by the state of her hair and the ink stains on her fingers.
"I found the deed," she said, dropping the folder onto Mercer's desk. "Keston's memory was right. A retreat house near the northern quarry, purchased eleven years ago under the name Corvis Adalyn. I traced Adalyn back through three other transactions. He doesn't exist. He's a name Hale invented to hold property he didn't want connected to his own."
Mercer opened the folder and studied the papers inside. A simple deed, a modest tax record, nothing that would draw attention unless someone already knew what they were looking for. "Any description of the house itself."
"Not much. Stone cons
