Legacy of Lies. Jill Nelson Elizabeth
ain’t she,” Terry said out of the corner of his mouth. “That’s the best kind.”
“Don’t push my buttons today, Bender.”
“Okay, Chief. But I was just sayin’…” With an elaborate shrug, he got into his car.
Rich followed Nicole’s little Ford into the alley behind the shop that was located on the corner of Ellington’s brief main street. He stopped his vehicle beside hers. Without a word, she unlocked the back door and stepped aside while he and his deputies went in. She’d admitted him into a combination storeroom and workroom. A sewing machine, a dressmaker’s dummy, and a table laden with bolts of fabric, scissors, measuring tape and other utensils sat on one side of the area. The other end of the long room was occupied by stacks of boxes.
Nicole poked her head inside. “I guarantee you won’t find anything. I’ve been cleaning and sorting and throwing since I got here—practically over my grandmother’s dead body.” She stopped on a little gasp. “Poor choice of words.” She paused. “Anyway, the boxes contain old financial records. I doubt my grandmother ever threw away a slip of paper. If those trip your trigger, go for it.” She closed the door just shy of a slam.
Chest tightening, Rich turned toward the stacked banker’s boxes. If the ransom from the kidnapping was laundered through the shop, he could be staring at the evidence.
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