Free Double Identity by Diane Burke

were simply amazing. Unfortunately, nothing sinister or helpful showed up in any of the pieces.
    Cain snapped his fingers. “What about the jewelry box?”
    “Jewelry box? I don’t own a jewelry box.”
    “The box. The one we found on the floor. The one you said was a gift from your dad.” Cain’s voice rose with excitement. He gently clasped her arms. “If your dad tried to hide a secret or a message for you, wouldn’t he put it in that box?”
    Sophie’s eyes lit up. She nodded and hurried into her bedroom. When she returned, the way she cradled the object against her body and stroked the intricate carvings on the lid revealed her emotional attachment to this particular piece. She gently placed it on the kitchen table.
    “It’s not a jewelry box,” she said. “It’s a treasure chest.” Her smile lit up her face. “Dad made it for me when I was a toddler.”
    He studied the carvings. It was a tiny replica of this house with toys scattered around the yard. Dolls. A ball. Even a tire swing. “It’s beautiful, Sophie.”
    “I used to keep all sorts of things in here. Different shaped rocks. Especially smooth, shiny ones. Once I even kept a live frog until my dad found out and made me let it go.” She threw her head back with laughter. “You should have seen his face when the frog jumped out. He chased it all over the cabin before he caught and released it.” Suddenly, she sobered. “I miss him so much.”
    Cain paused, allowing her a moment with her memories before he said, “Show me. Where’s the hidden compartment on this chest?” He held his breath in anticipation. Could it really be this easy? All the answers hidden right here in a child’s treasure chest?
    Sophie smiled. Slowly, she traced a finger along the top of the box, pushed down on the tire swing and a drawer ejected from the lid like a knife from a switchblade. Inside on a velvet-lining rested a cameo.
    “I guess it’s a jewelry box after all,” Sophie said. “That cameo belonged to my mother. I’ve had it since I was a baby. Almost forgot it was there.” She withdrew the locket, holding it in her hand and running her thumb along its surface.
    Cain picked up the box. Surprised by its weight, he turned it upside down. Ran his hand inside the hidden drawer. Nothing. No clues. No secret notes or letters. Nothing.
    He tried to hide his disappointment. He’d been certain if Sophie’s dad had wanted to hide something that would lend a clue to his disappearance, it would have been in the box he knew his daughter cherished.
    Cain didn’t know what surprised him more, realizing his gut instincts weren’t as sharp as they had been when he was on the force, or the surge of anger he felt toward Sophie’s dad for leaving her in a world of unanswered questions and hurt.
    “Is there anything else?” He asked through gritted teeth. “Anywhere we haven’t already looked?”
    Sophie gently placed her mother’s locket back in the chest and pushed in the compartment lid. “Sorry, Cain. I’ve shown you everything.”
    Cain’s heart clenched when he looked into her eyes and saw the deep sadness residing there. He wanted to help her. He wanted to see her eyes sparkle with laughter, not cloud with tears. But how? Please, Lord, where do I go from here?
    “Think, Sophie. If your dad wanted to hide something that he didn’t want you or anyone else to see, where would he put it?”
    Sophie absently tapped her foot. Her eyes lit up and she grinned. “His tool box. No one, not even me, was ever allowed near his tools. I brought them with me when I came to Promise. The box is in the shed.”
    They both hurried across the porch and out to the shed in the backyard. The wooden box, large and cumbersome, took a bit of effort to lift to the table. Cain was amazed that petite, fragile Sophie had been able to do it previously. But then again, Cain was learning quickly that Sophie’s tiny size might give her the appearance of fragility but nothing could