That rang a bell in my head. “Bill Parson spoke to me about prepping and when I stopped at the police station to speak with my dad, I saw him being escorted into one of the interview rooms.”
Amy’s foot stopped moving against Mo’s back. “Escorted?”
“Two deputies walked with him to the interview room,” I said. “No cuffs. No arguments. Just an escort.”
Beau shifted slightly beside Amy. “That doesn’t necessarily mean he’s in trouble. They could just be asking questions.”
“That was my thought,” I said. “But it made me wonder why they had him in for questioning.”
“I got it,” Amy said as if she struck gold. “They are questioning all safety deposit box holders involved with the heist?”
“That would make sense,” Beau said. “If the robberies revolved around certain boxes, investigators would want to know what was in them.”
Ian turned a questioning glance at me.
I shook my head. “My dad never mentioned I needed to come in for questioning.”
Amy leaned back against Beau a little more comfortably. “Maybe they’re not questioning everyone who has a box.”
“Just certain ones,” Beau said.
“People who have more than one,” I finished.
Ian nodded slowly. “That would narrow things considerably.”
The idea seemed to settle into place between us.
“That would mean Bill has more than one safety deposit box,” Amy said.
“That still raises a question,” Ian said. “Why would a locksmith have even one safety deposit box?”
“That’s exactly what bothered me,” I said. “Locks are his business. He installs them, repairs them, opens them when someone loses a key. But a safety deposit box? That feels different.”
“Unless the box isn’t really his,” Beau said.
All three of us looked at him.
He shrugged slightly. “Think about it. Vera spreads her notebooks across multiple banks. We already know that. If she wanted another layer of protection, using someone she trusted wouldn’t be that strange.”
Amy nodded slowly. “Someone whose name wouldn’t immediately connect to hers.”
“And if investigators are looking for overlapping box holders,” Ian said, “Bill’s name would appear in the records.”
“Which would explain why he was walking into an interview room this afternoon,” I said.
For a moment none of us spoke.
Mo rolled onto his side with a satisfied huff, while Roxie flicked her tail from the arm of the chair like she was supervising the investigation.
The more I turned the idea over, the more it made sense.
Bill hadn’t looked angry at the station, and he hadn’t looked frightened either.
Ian turned his head toward me.
There was a knowing look in his eyes now.
“I know what you’re thinking.”
