She had that kind of look about her, don’t you think?”
“I wouldn’t trust her to hold on to my lunch money,” Maddy admitted. “What I want to know is how Grant ever persuaded her to marry him in the first place.”
“I’ve got a feeling that it was more Vivian’s idea than Grant’s. She must have had her reasons, but I can’t even begin to guess what they could have been.”
Maddy looked around the space and then noted, “At least there’s not much we have to search.”
“And I don’t doubt that it’s even less after the police left,” I said. “Still, we’ve found things before that they’ve missed. Kevin Hurley is a pretty good cop, but he lacks something we have when it comes to digging.”
“What’s that?” Maddy asked.
“A woman’s point of view,” I answered. “We can see things that he might miss, and better yet, interpret them in a different light.”
“I just hope we find something,” Maddy said.
I looked around the room and made an executive decision. “Tell you what. You take the closet, and I’ll take the desk in the corner. The first one who finishes gets to tackle the chest of drawers.”
“It’s a deal,” she said. As my sister looked into the jammed closet, she said, “I’ll never find anything digging around in here. I’m going to search everything as I pull it out of the closet. Do you mind if I use the bed?”
“Be my guest,” I said.
As Maddy started investigating the closet, I moved to Grant’s desk. It was an old-fashioned rolltop number with dull brass knobs and a well-worn top, and there was no doubt in my mind that it was left over from generations past, just waiting to be put back into use.
At least I didn’t need a key. The police who’d searched the place earlier hadn’t found it either, but they hadn’t let that stop them. There were fresh scratches by the latch, as though someone had pried the tambour pull-down free from its simple lock. It was a rather inelegant way to handle the situation, but I knew that sometimes cops didn’t care, especially if they were in a hurry. I shoved the tambour up, hearing it click, click, click as it moved up into the desk, to reveal a dozen tiny little drawers and just as many open cubbyholes.
It was time to start digging.
“Did you find anything good yet?” Maddy asked as she walked over to me. I was trying to study Grant’s receipts that I’d pulled from the main drawer, searching in vain to find any particular order to his organization, or lack thereof. If it was present, it had eluded me so far. I had moved a few things from the mess over to one side to study later, but I hadn’t found anything earth-shattering so far.
I pushed away from the desk. “Was he always such a bad record keeper?”
“Oh, yes. When we first got married, I had to put some extra money in his checking account to cover his rounding habits, and then I had to open a whole new account at another bank so we could start off together with some semblance of organization. It drove me mad.”
“I can’t even imagine how you were able to stand it,” I said. “How about you? Were you able to find anything?”
She didn’t look particularly happy as she admitted, “I’m just about all the way to the back of the closet, and so far, I’ve pulled four notes from his pockets. Two were written on napkins, one on a pack of matches, and the last one on an old envelope.”
“Anything there that you think might be significant?” She shook her head. “Not that I can tell so far. Three look like telephone numbers, and the final one appears to be some kind of combination.”
“He actually has a safe? ” I asked as I looked around the room for where it might be hiding.
“Not as far as I can see,” she said. “What about you?”
I pointed to the small stack of papers I had accumulated so far. “I have no idea what I’ve got here. I wish we could find his checkbook. The register might be informative.”
“The police
“I wouldn’t trust her to hold on to my lunch money,” Maddy admitted. “What I want to know is how Grant ever persuaded her to marry him in the first place.”
“I’ve got a feeling that it was more Vivian’s idea than Grant’s. She must have had her reasons, but I can’t even begin to guess what they could have been.”
Maddy looked around the space and then noted, “At least there’s not much we have to search.”
“And I don’t doubt that it’s even less after the police left,” I said. “Still, we’ve found things before that they’ve missed. Kevin Hurley is a pretty good cop, but he lacks something we have when it comes to digging.”
“What’s that?” Maddy asked.
“A woman’s point of view,” I answered. “We can see things that he might miss, and better yet, interpret them in a different light.”
“I just hope we find something,” Maddy said.
I looked around the room and made an executive decision. “Tell you what. You take the closet, and I’ll take the desk in the corner. The first one who finishes gets to tackle the chest of drawers.”
“It’s a deal,” she said. As my sister looked into the jammed closet, she said, “I’ll never find anything digging around in here. I’m going to search everything as I pull it out of the closet. Do you mind if I use the bed?”
“Be my guest,” I said.
As Maddy started investigating the closet, I moved to Grant’s desk. It was an old-fashioned rolltop number with dull brass knobs and a well-worn top, and there was no doubt in my mind that it was left over from generations past, just waiting to be put back into use.
At least I didn’t need a key. The police who’d searched the place earlier hadn’t found it either, but they hadn’t let that stop them. There were fresh scratches by the latch, as though someone had pried the tambour pull-down free from its simple lock. It was a rather inelegant way to handle the situation, but I knew that sometimes cops didn’t care, especially if they were in a hurry. I shoved the tambour up, hearing it click, click, click as it moved up into the desk, to reveal a dozen tiny little drawers and just as many open cubbyholes.
It was time to start digging.
“Did you find anything good yet?” Maddy asked as she walked over to me. I was trying to study Grant’s receipts that I’d pulled from the main drawer, searching in vain to find any particular order to his organization, or lack thereof. If it was present, it had eluded me so far. I had moved a few things from the mess over to one side to study later, but I hadn’t found anything earth-shattering so far.
I pushed away from the desk. “Was he always such a bad record keeper?”
“Oh, yes. When we first got married, I had to put some extra money in his checking account to cover his rounding habits, and then I had to open a whole new account at another bank so we could start off together with some semblance of organization. It drove me mad.”
“I can’t even imagine how you were able to stand it,” I said. “How about you? Were you able to find anything?”
She didn’t look particularly happy as she admitted, “I’m just about all the way to the back of the closet, and so far, I’ve pulled four notes from his pockets. Two were written on napkins, one on a pack of matches, and the last one on an old envelope.”
“Anything there that you think might be significant?” She shook her head. “Not that I can tell so far. Three look like telephone numbers, and the final one appears to be some kind of combination.”
“He actually has a safe? ” I asked as I looked around the room for where it might be hiding.
“Not as far as I can see,” she said. “What about you?”
I pointed to the small stack of papers I had accumulated so far. “I have no idea what I’ve got here. I wish we could find his checkbook. The register might be informative.”
“The police
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