“You can leave anytime you’re done. Please don’t remove anything from the box without legal authorization or power of attorney. And you are under observation and surveillance.”
She left and silence settled over them like a weighted blanket.
“On hisdeath bed?” Maggie asked.
Jo Ellen gave her a harsh glare and surreptitiously pointed to a camera in the corner. “Just find Box 237, Mags. You’re not the only one who can sway people to do things.”
“Apparently not.”
They found the box, pulled it out, and placed it on a table in the middle of the room. Jo Ellen produced one of the keys and held it aloft.
“May I?” she asked.
“After that Oscar-winning performance, yes, you may.”
“Okay.” Jo slid the key and twisted it. “Thirty years, Mags. What could be in here?”
“Just open it,” Maggie pressed, anticipation stretching over her and snapping at her nerves.
Very slowly, Jo Ellen turned the key and lifted the lid, both of them leaning over to peer in to see…
“Nothing?” Maggie choked.
“Just…” Jo reached into the corner of the utterly empty box and pulled out a small blue piece of cardstock that Maggie hadn’t even noticed. “This.”
“What is it?”
They almost knocked heads trying to look at it.
“A dry cleaning ticket,” Jo Ellen said with dismay. “Sunny Shores Cleaners 167890.” She flipped it over. “A. Wylie. Suit. Pick up August second.”
Maggie felt the blood whoosh from her head. “That’s it? A dry cleaning stub from God knows when? For a suit?”
No! This wasn’t possible.
“That’s it.” Jo flipped the tiny piece of paper over and over as if it would magically reveal something.
Maggie gripped the edge of the table, her whole world tilted and crashing.
“I can’t take this anymore, Jo.”
“I know, I know.” She bit her lip and looked up. “I mean, I know Roger was laundering money, but did he actually take it to the dry cleaners?”
Maggie sliced her with a look. “Do you think this is funny?”
“I think it’s…frustrating.”
That it was. Maggie gave a shove to the box, as if that was the thing that had betrayed her—and not Jo Ellen’s deceased husband.
Fuming and shaking, she turned and walked out, leaving the box, her friend, and this crushing defeat behind. She powered through the bank without so much as a look at Nose Ring, then walked outside, dropping onto a bench beside the main doors like some kind of vagabond without a home.
She’d never felt so lost or frustrated or confused in her life.
A few minutes later, Jo came out, sitting down next to her.
“I took it,” she said in a breathless whisper. “I’ll probably get arrested, but I took it anyway. I don’t think it was caught on camera, but I don’t care. It had to mean something or they wouldn’t have put it in that box.”
She eyed her friend with begrudging, but genuine, respect. “Great. Now we can go pick up Artie’s suit. Expect a late fee.”
