It's a Wonderful Knife by Christine Wenger Page A

Should I answer that? We could be all wrong, and Ty might ask for a two-physician commitment for mental health services for us.
    â€œWell, Trixie?” he pushed, staring at me with those darn blue eyes.
    â€œWe thought it might be a flash drive. It was kind of the right size and felt like it might be just that.”
    â€œA flash drive for Liz’s laptop? The same laptop that you took from the church? That laptop?”
    â€œThe very same,” I said. “If you want the laptop, I’ll certainly give it to you. I just gathered up all of Liz’s things that were left in the church and thought I’d keep them until you told me otherwise.”
    â€œOtherwise,” he said.
    â€œHuh?”
    â€œOtherwise. I’m telling you to give me all of Liz’s property.”
    â€œWhy didn’t you just say so?”
    Steam was coming out of his ears. He was fun to tease, but I knew I was pushing him.
    â€œDid you find anything on the laptop?” he asked.
    â€œYes. I was looking for pageant help—lists, names, what she had in mind for the pageant—and I found pretty much what I needed.”
    â€œNothing else?”
    â€œNothing exciting. Maybe Ray Meyerson could find something important, or some wizard at the State Police, but I couldn’t.”
    â€œWhat about you, Antoinette Chloe?” Ty asked.
    â€œI’m about on Trixie’s level. I’d still be keeping my restaurant accounts on paper, but Fingers has all kinds of programs for keeping track of things, so I let him. He can tell right down to the stick of butter how much to order and the cost.”
    At least ACB knew that flash drives existed—maybe because Fingers usually sported two on a lanyard around his neck.
    â€œWhoever beat you to Liz’s house, what do you think they were looking for?” Ty asked.
    â€œAre you asking for our help?” I couldn’t believe it.
    A vein pumped in his temple. “I’m just asking a question.”
    I nodded. “We don’t really know. We’re just guessing that the killer might be looking for Liz’s flash drive, too, if she was using one. It’s just a big, fat guess—a shot in the dark.”
    â€œI’ll be picking up Liz’s laptop tonight. Where is it?”
    â€œOn my kitchen table.”
    â€œI’ll let myself in,” he said. “And I’ll take Blondie home with me.”
    ACB adjusted her bra straps. “You’re still going to charge us?”
    â€œYeah, but you can take your cell phones and whatever else you need. Call for takeout. I’m buying.”
    â€œDarn right you are, Ty Brisco,” I said. “Who do you want to interview first?”
    â€œAntoinette Chloe can go first. And don’t forget, I have to take your statements from yesterday, too.”
    I sighed. “Remember to call Judge Frazier and get him down here. If you don’t I will ban you from being served at the Silver Bullet for the rest of your lifetime or mine, whichever comes first.”
    He slapped his hands on his heart. “You wouldn’t dare!”
    â€œI dare.”
    He reached into his desk and threw me a set of keys. “Let yourself into the jail. Leave the door open, so I can make sure you’re okay.”
    The Sandy Harbor jail cells were through a double door. A left turn led to the men’s cell—a right led to the women’s. I turned right and had to smile when I came to ACB’s creation. It looked like a fabric store had exploded.
    I opened the cell door and hesitated for a moment before I walked in. Slumping into a Queen Anne chair decorated with colorful climbing roses, I leaned my crutches against a writing desk that looked like an antique. Too bad it was painted in bright pink.
    Digging out my cell phone from my purse, I decided to call the Silver Bullet for takeout.
    Only in small-town Sandy Harbor would I be given the keys to let myself into my own