CHAPTER 25
The next morning, I was parked across the street from Parson Locksmith with my to-go cup of tea in one hand and Mo riding shotgun behind me like he had been officially deputized for investigative duty.
The shop looked exactly the way it always had. A narrow brick storefront wedged between the Willow Lake Barber Shop and Lily’s Florist that always smelled faintly of lilies. The painted sign in the window read PARSON LOCKSMITH–Keys Cut, Locks Repaired, Security Consultations.
Ian had wanted to come with me, but the gunslinger shoot had another day or two to go. As he walked out the door, he called out, “Don’t get into any trouble, Pep.” And he raised his hand, showing his fingers crossed.
“Very funny,” I called back, and intended to show him I could investigate without ending up in trouble.
Mo’s chin landed on my shoulder, and I patted him on the head. “No trouble today, Mo. Plain and simple investigative work.”
I kept my attention on the shop. I could see Bill moving around behind the counter, sorting through a tray of what I couldn’t see. After a moment, he stepped around the counter and flipped the sign on the door from Closed to Open.
I was just about to get out of the truck when Mo gave a low huff and shifted in his seat.
A familiar figure appeared on the sidewalk… Vera.
She wasn’t strolling the way she usually did when she wandered through town gathering bits of conversation for her notebooks. She was marching straight toward the locksmith shop with purpose.
“Well, that’s interesting,” I murmured.
Mo’s ears perked.
Vera didn’t pause. She opened the shop door and stepped inside without hesitation.
From where I sat, I could see Bill glance up in surprise. Vera said something and a moment later Bill nodded and motioned toward the back of the shop.
The two of them disappeared through a doorway behind the counter.
“Looks like we’re not the only ones with questions this morning, Mo. Let’s go.”
He wagged his tail, eager to get out of the truck.
We crossed the street together.
The shop window gave a partial view inside. Racks of keys lined the wall, and several lock displays filled the front counter, but the back room was hidden from sight.
I paused just long enough to make sure no one was looking our way.
Then I opened the door and stepped inside… soundlessly and smiled. I was grateful Bill Parson didn’t have a bell over his door the way Zelda did at the diner. Which meant no one in the back room had any idea I had just walked in.
Unless—I gave a quick look for cameras and sure enough I spotted a couple and quickly stepped out of view, and waited, Mo staying close to my side. No one called out or stepped out of the backroom.
Mo padded beside me, nails clicking ever so softly on the floor, as I eased out of view of the cameras, at least I hoped I did, a little farther into the shop.
Voices drifted faintly from the door behind the counter.
Vera’s voice came first, sharp and irritated.
“I’ve got nothing to hide,” she snapped. “Notebooks. Nothing but notebooks. And it’s none of the FBI’s business what I keep in them.”
FBI?
Had Stone been waiting in the interview room yesterday to question Bill? The thought slid quickly through my mind.
Vera clearly wasn’t finished.
“Did you tell them my notebooks are in your safety deposit boxes?” she asked, her voice rising as she repeated, “It’s none of the FBI’s business. I can have a friend store things for me and I can have as many boxes as I want. There’s nothing illegal about protecting my property.”
