that she would hide it. He flipped it over a couple of times, then used his small pocketknife to open the envelope.
When Elliot slid the knife back into his pocket, he saw movement from the corner of his eye. He turned and saw someone outside, scurrying away from the window, heading toward the back of the house.
Elliot scrambled from the bedroom and through the kitchen. When he reached the back door, he threw it open and stepped outside, descending the back steps to a small sidewalk. He saw no one. A small dog cowered beside the fence line. Elliot went to the north side where the window was located, but found only an empty driveway. A one-car garage sat at the end of the drive.
The only door to the garage was an overhead, and when he tested it, he found it was locked. He peered through the glass of the door. The garage held no car, only a few boxes, and Elliot could see well enough to determine that no one was inside. He crossed the backyard, stopping at the fence, a four-foot decorative barrier that he easily leaned across to check the alley, which ran behind the property. After that he walked to the south side of the house and on to the front yard. Whoever the voyeur had been, he or she was gone now.
Elliot hesitated briefly, watching his breath condensing in the cold air, then went back inside the house, where he noticed the dog door and a couple of empty bowls sitting on the floor near it. He filled one of the bowls with water, then found a bag of food on the bottom shelf of the pantry and filled the other bowl as well.
With that done, Elliot dumped the contents of the envelope he’d found onto the kitchen table: a brass lockbox key and a folded piece of notebook paper with three names written on it. The last name on the list had a large red X beside it.
Chapter Sixteen
After leaving Brighid McAlister’s place, Elliot saw Sergeant Conley’s patrol car sitting at a Quick Trip Store, so he pulled in. He and Conley bought a couple of sandwiches and sat in the sergeant’s Chevy and ate them.
Elliot informed Conley of what he’d found and explained that he wanted to gain access to the lockbox. Conley told him to ask for Judge Miranda Broussard. Her husband had been a police officer. Judge Broussard turned out to be no pushover, but she seemed to understand Elliot’s needs, and the time-sensitive nature of his request.
A few hours later, Elliot walked into the lobby of Arvest Bank. The receptionist smiled. “May I help you, sir?”
Elliot identified himself and showed her the key. “I believe this belongs to one of your lockboxes. I need to look inside it. Could you help me with that?”
The receptionist picked up the phone and spoke into it.
When the assistant manager came out of her office, the flushed look on her face told Elliot he was going to have trouble.
“What is it exactly that you want, Detective?”
Elliot kept his impatience in check and held up the key. “I need to look inside the lockbox that this key goes to. Could you open it, please?”
“But you’re not the owner of the box.”
He glanced at her name tag. “No, Ms. Davenport. I have a warrant. I don’t need to be the owner.”
“I see. Well, how did you determine that the key you have is for a box at this bank?”
Elliot held up the envelope he’d found beneath Brighid McAlister’s bed, an envelope that had Arvest Bank emblazoned across it.
“Yes, well I don’t know if I can do that or not, open the box that is. Can you wait until Susie gets back?”
“Who’s Susie? And what does she have to do with this?”
Ms. Davenport tried to look put out, but her embarrassment showed. “Susan Taylor. She’s the manager.”
“When will she be back?”
Ms. Davenport checked her watch. “Well, you just missed her. It’ll be an hour, maybe more.”
“I can’t wait that long.”
Ms. Davenport stood before him, wringing her hands.
“Can you call her?”
“Oh, no, I can’t do that. I’m not to bother her during
When Elliot slid the knife back into his pocket, he saw movement from the corner of his eye. He turned and saw someone outside, scurrying away from the window, heading toward the back of the house.
Elliot scrambled from the bedroom and through the kitchen. When he reached the back door, he threw it open and stepped outside, descending the back steps to a small sidewalk. He saw no one. A small dog cowered beside the fence line. Elliot went to the north side where the window was located, but found only an empty driveway. A one-car garage sat at the end of the drive.
The only door to the garage was an overhead, and when he tested it, he found it was locked. He peered through the glass of the door. The garage held no car, only a few boxes, and Elliot could see well enough to determine that no one was inside. He crossed the backyard, stopping at the fence, a four-foot decorative barrier that he easily leaned across to check the alley, which ran behind the property. After that he walked to the south side of the house and on to the front yard. Whoever the voyeur had been, he or she was gone now.
Elliot hesitated briefly, watching his breath condensing in the cold air, then went back inside the house, where he noticed the dog door and a couple of empty bowls sitting on the floor near it. He filled one of the bowls with water, then found a bag of food on the bottom shelf of the pantry and filled the other bowl as well.
With that done, Elliot dumped the contents of the envelope he’d found onto the kitchen table: a brass lockbox key and a folded piece of notebook paper with three names written on it. The last name on the list had a large red X beside it.
Chapter Sixteen
After leaving Brighid McAlister’s place, Elliot saw Sergeant Conley’s patrol car sitting at a Quick Trip Store, so he pulled in. He and Conley bought a couple of sandwiches and sat in the sergeant’s Chevy and ate them.
Elliot informed Conley of what he’d found and explained that he wanted to gain access to the lockbox. Conley told him to ask for Judge Miranda Broussard. Her husband had been a police officer. Judge Broussard turned out to be no pushover, but she seemed to understand Elliot’s needs, and the time-sensitive nature of his request.
A few hours later, Elliot walked into the lobby of Arvest Bank. The receptionist smiled. “May I help you, sir?”
Elliot identified himself and showed her the key. “I believe this belongs to one of your lockboxes. I need to look inside it. Could you help me with that?”
The receptionist picked up the phone and spoke into it.
When the assistant manager came out of her office, the flushed look on her face told Elliot he was going to have trouble.
“What is it exactly that you want, Detective?”
Elliot kept his impatience in check and held up the key. “I need to look inside the lockbox that this key goes to. Could you open it, please?”
“But you’re not the owner of the box.”
He glanced at her name tag. “No, Ms. Davenport. I have a warrant. I don’t need to be the owner.”
“I see. Well, how did you determine that the key you have is for a box at this bank?”
Elliot held up the envelope he’d found beneath Brighid McAlister’s bed, an envelope that had Arvest Bank emblazoned across it.
“Yes, well I don’t know if I can do that or not, open the box that is. Can you wait until Susie gets back?”
“Who’s Susie? And what does she have to do with this?”
Ms. Davenport tried to look put out, but her embarrassment showed. “Susan Taylor. She’s the manager.”
“When will she be back?”
Ms. Davenport checked her watch. “Well, you just missed her. It’ll be an hour, maybe more.”
“I can’t wait that long.”
Ms. Davenport stood before him, wringing her hands.
“Can you call her?”
“Oh, no, I can’t do that. I’m not to bother her during
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