Page 49 of Alibi for Murder
Steve had called his people. The Colby Agency would know what to do. If anyone could stop them, it was the Colby Agency.
Chapter Twelve
Woodstock Police Department
Lake Avenue, 10:30 p.m.
Allie sat in the lobby, frustration roaring inside her. What the hell were these people doing? She glared across the room at the desk sergeant. She wanted to rant at the woman. But it wasn’t her fault.
The molded plastic seats were incredibly uncomfortable. Allie shifted to another position. The tile floor and walls were basically the same color, a sort of off-white. The place reminded her of what she imagined a morgue would look like.
The officer who had pulled them over had taken Steve beyond those double doors that required being buzzed in to pass through. She was left to sit here and wait. Her mind kept whirling with the bits and pieces that had come out today. Not that any of it added up to a firm answer, but it was starting to come together toward one. Rivero kept sending her text messages asking what was happening. She’d given him the short version of events, and he’d only responded withOh.
Yeah, she mused,oh. He hadn’t mentioned knowing anyone who could help, so her decision not to call him had been the right one.
She got up and started to pace. She could not sit still a moment longer. The desk sergeant watched her for a momentthen returned to whatever she was doing on the computer. Allie figured the people who sat behind that desk saw plenty during a shift. She wasn’t about to give anyone a show. Her goal was to walk off some of the building agitation.
The walls suddenly felt as if they were closing in on Allie, and she couldn’t breathe. She walked to the desk and fixed a smile on her lips. “I’m going out to the car for a while,” she said to the woman beyond the glass. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
The woman nodded but said nothing. It wasn’t her job to keep up with Allie or to provide information to Steve about her whereabouts. Why had she even walked over and said anything?
Whatever.
Allie crossed the sterile lobby and pushed through the exit door into the muggy night air. She drew in a deep breath and glanced around. The parking lot was quiet. A few other cars but no sign of people. She walked to Steve’s SUV, unlocked it and climbed inside. She pressed the lock button immediately. She surveyed the parking lot again to make sure she was alone. Another hard shiver passed through her.
Maybe being outside wasn’t smart, but she couldn’t be in there anymore.
She needed to do something.
Her phone buzzed with another text from Rivero. She rolled her eyes and returned a message ofStill waiting.
She tossed her phone onto the console and stared at the bracelet the man had kept all this time. She fingered the tiny silver blocks engraved with the letters of her name. Her mother had been holding this bracelet. Had she thought it would be a good-luck charm? Or just a way to cling to her love for Allie while they did what they had to do in hopes of escaping?
What had her father known that put them in such danger? What if the newspaper had been a ruse, and she and Steve had missed something in the time capsule? Her brain felt underpressure from all sides. She couldn’t get a deep enough breath. Allie shook her head. She had to do something, or she was going to have a full-blown panic attack. Taking care, she placed the bracelet in the cupholder on the console, then she reached into the rear floorboard and grabbed the time capsule. She opened it up and removed the contents, placing each item on the passenger seat.
She flipped on the overhead lights and started with the newspaper. Maybe the circled letters were the ruse. After all, they were a little obvious. Even the message, now that she thought about it, was in-your-face recognizable. Her father was too smart for that. Allie smiled. If she had learned nothing else, she had discovered how very smart her father was and how loving her mother was.
Taking her time, she reviewed each headline, each ad for local shops and businesses. The classifieds received a thorough read. How many spies had used classifieds? Her father would have considered that as well.
Thankfully, the paper didn’t consist of that many pages, so her work wasn’t too terribly time consuming. Nothing jumped out at her. She moved on to the photos. She shuffled through them one at a time, taking in every detail of the image. Most of them were taken in the backyard at home. Nothing new or notable in any of those either. Then she picked up the shoe. She smiled. It was so tiny. She wondered if she’d actually worn it at all since the time capsule was buried the day she was born. Maybe from the hospital. On the other hand, it had been dug up later when evidence was supposed to be added. But her parents wouldn’t have had adding sentimental items on their minds at that time.
Nothing in or on the shoe. No writing. Nothing. The spoon was just a spoon. Stainless, not real silver. No brand engraved onthe handle. Lastly, she reached for the rattle. It wasn’t one of the fancy silver ones. Just plastic. Yellow with pink and blue flowers.
She looked it over carefully, gave it a good shake. The rattle didn’t sound the way she’d expected. She frowned. More a plunk effect than a clatter. She traced the seam where the baby toy was put together, and her finger stopped then went back over the right side of the seam. There was a tiny piece missing on the little lip on the one side that closed over the other. In that area, the two sides felt as if they weren’t pushed together all the way. She studied it more closely. The sides appeared to have been pulled apart and then shoved back together. Her gaze traveled down the length of the now vintage toy to the part she held in her palm. The stem or handle had been broken and maybe glued back together.
As if someone had broken the handle while prying apart the two sides of the round end that held whatever was supposed to make the rattling sound.
Allie hesitated for only a second, then she started to tug, using her fingernails, which were dirty from digging, to pry at the narrow little gap in the seam. She couldn’t get it. Damn it. She needed a screwdriver or…maybe a key.
She dug in her purse until she found her house key. After placing the rattle on the console, she held it in place with the fingers of one hand and jabbed and pried at the seam with the key in her other hand.
It took a bit, and she cracked the bigger part of the rattle to get the job done, but it opened. Rather than small beads or something on that order to clatter around inside, there was a small, slim, silver object. She picked it up, her eyes communicating what she saw to her brain but her gray matter rejecting the idea.
Thumb drive…flash drive…whatever one chose to call it. It appeared to have a small cap. She tugged it free, and sure enough, there was the USB port plug.
“No way,” she murmured.
Instinctively, she reached up and turned off the light, anticipation soaring through her.
