“You will require more than this as evidence of Mr. Winters’ death,” he said quietly. “For all I know, you may have forged this letter.”
“Preposterous!” Mrs. Leeds snapped. “I refuse to discuss the matter with you further. I shall send for my attorney and he will straighten out everything.”
“Not without the will, he can’t,” Caleb returned grimly. “And there’s no telling what became of it.”
“The will?” Mrs. Leeds caught him up. “Are you sure there was a will?”
“Mr. Winters told me once that he had made one and hidden it somewhere in the house.”
“Then of course it can be found.”
“Mr. Winters wouldn’t want anyone prying around in his private papers,” Caleb insisted. “Until I have definite word that he is dead, I can’t let anyone hunt for it.”
“I shouldn’t call searching for the will exactly prying!” Mrs. Leeds retorted indignantly. “What right have you to say what is to be done here? Are you the caretaker?”
“Well, not exactly, but Mr. Winters asked me to look after things until he got back.”
“That will must be found.”