Free Borrowing Death by Cathy Pegau Page B

tried the handle. It didn’t budge.
    Caroline slapped her palm against the safe and let out a frustrated growl.
    â€œMrs. Fiske?” Charlotte had no reason to hide from the widow, and her curiosity bade her to question the woman.
    Caroline startled and swung the light toward her. “Who’s that?” Charlotte ducked her head slightly to keep the light from her eyes. Caroline lowered the beam. “Oh, Miss Brody. What are you doing here?”
    â€œMy apologies. I was going to do a follow-up article about the fire, and the possible connection to the arsonist, when I saw your light. I’m so sorry about your husband.”
    Caroline rose, dusting off her skirt. “Thank you.”
    Dark smudges of sleeplessness marred the pale skin beneath her brown eyes. Despite her foray into the sooty remains of the store, Caroline’s face was otherwise clean and clear, and her black hair remained in its neat bun.
    â€œIs there something I might help you with?” Charlotte glanced between Caroline and the safe.
    The woman closed her eyes, collecting herself. Her shoulders stiffened, and her back straightened. With an almost regal bearing, she focused on Charlotte again. “I was looking for insurance papers.”
    Charlotte felt a kick of adrenaline. Insurance? Money was as strong a motivator as love. Perhaps stronger for some people.
    â€œI’m sure that sounds perfectly horrible,” Caroline said, pain deepening lines along her mouth and between her eyes. “I’ve been wandering around the house most of the day feeling out of sorts and useless, and figured at the very least I could look into taking care of the store.”
    It hadn’t bothered her that she was in the place where her husband had been robbed and murdered? Had she no feelings for the man?
    â€œThat’s understandable,” Charlotte said despite the thoughts she had. “But you don’t know the combination?”
    â€œI do, or thought I did.” Caroline glanced at the safe. “The numbers seem to have left my head. I was sure it was—Oh!”
    She quickly knelt down again and spun the dial. Right. Left. Right. This time, when she pushed down on the handle, it clicked.
    Charlotte made her way over some debris to stand behind the woman. Had the safe been emptied like the till?
    Caroline pulled the heavy door open. She shined her light inside. Papers, folders, several stacks of federal reserve notes, a canvas coin sack. All lay neatly on the shelves, undisturbed.
    So much for robbery.
    Caroline reached in, shoving aside the papers and cash. A small whimper escaped her. “It’s gone. Where did he put it?”

Chapter 5
    C aroline jumped to her feet, nearly knocking Charlotte over. She ran to the desk and yanked open drawers. “Where is it? Where’d you put it, Lyle?”
    Anxiety raised her voice half an octave. A drawer crashed to the floor. She gave the mess a cursory search, then pulled out another when she didn’t find whatever she was looking for. The flashlight’s beam bobbed in time with her frantic movement.
    â€œWhat are you looking for, Caroline?” Charlotte came around the desk, wary of flying papers, pen nibs, and ink pots.
    â€œA black metal box with a gold border around the lid.” Caroline straightened from a crouch, turning this way and that as she swept the room with the light. “It’s gone. He kept it in the safe, and now it’s gone.”
    Charlotte scanned the room as well, though she had no sense she’d actually find the missing box. “Would Lyle have brought it home? Did you look there?”
    Caroline shook her head. “No. No, he kept everything here. This is the most secure place.” She turned to a set of shelves behind the desk and began pulling out waterlogged catalogues and papers, scattering them across the floor with wet thuds. “Where could it be?”
    â€œCould someone have taken it?” If