Free Lie or Die: A Shelby Nichols Adventure by Colleen Helme

kept, like bicycles, machinery, tools, and lots of boxes. The numbers on the tags got bigger as we neared the end of the row. The officer stopped, and I hurried to her side, eager to see the crates, but the space was empty.
    “They should be right here,” she said, puzzled.
    My heart sank. I was so close! Had someone stolen them? The security here was pretty tight. I couldn’t believe just anyone could walk out of here with evidence unless they had clearance. So it had to be someone in the police department. But why would they want a bunch of underwear? And how could they get the crates out of here without anyone noticing?
    “Are you sure?” I asked, just to be safe.
    She checked her note again. “Unless they got misplaced,” she said. She was thinking it wasn’t likely, and it made her nervous that someone in the department had taken them. It was her responsibility to keep that from happening, but sometimes things got ‘misplaced’ and it didn’t take a brain surgeon to know it was one of their own who did it. But why would anyone want a bunch of underwear?
    She started checking the boxes on either side, and I plunged in to help. No underwear in sight. “Maybe someone did pick them up, and it didn’t get recorded,” I said.
    “Yes,” she agreed. “That’s a possibility, especially since that’s what you were told. Let’s go back and check the computer again. Maybe I missed something.” She knew she hadn’t, but it didn’t hurt to double-check. “This is so strange.”
    As we retraced our steps, I kept an eye out for anything that looked like the missing crates. “What happens to all this stuff if it’s not claimed?” I asked.
    “We hold auctions, and sell it back to the community. You can get some really good stuff for cheap. Especially the bicycles and skateboards, but we have cars, boats, and even houses.”
    “Wow, that’s nuts. Do you have auctions very often?”
    “It depends, but usually when we need to clear out space. As you can see, it gets pretty crowded in here.”
    “Do you think that’s what happened to the crates?” I asked.
    “Maybe, but it should have been marked on the computer. We keep very meticulous records so things don’t get lost.” She couldn’t figure it out. Someone must have made a mistake. Maybe they were picked up, and it wasn’t recorded. Or maybe they were scheduled for auction, especially if they’d been here for a long time. That made the most sense to her.
    We made it back to her desk, and she checked the computer again. “That’s strange,” she said. “On this column it says they were brought in and labeled. This column has the tag number, but this column has a check on it. That usually means they were released, but there’s no signature of who signed for it. Maybe someone picked them up after all, and just forgot to record the name. You said they belonged to a business?”
    “Yes,” I nodded.
    “Then maybe you should check with them, and see if they know who picked it up.”
    “Yeah…okay.” I sighed, discouraged they weren’t there.
    She was eager to close the books, and decided that was what happened. It made sense to her, and explained why they were gone, better than if someone in the department had taken them. She’d also double-check to see if they’d already been auctioned off, or on the schedule for the next auction.
    I managed a smile. “Thanks for your time. If you happen to find out where they are, could you call me?” I handed her one of my cards. “I’d really appreciate it.”
    “Sure.” She took the card and wrote ‘underwear’ on the back, hoping that would help her remember.
    “Thanks.” I sure hoped they hadn’t been auctioned off. I took the long way back upstairs where the detectives had their offices. Without a name, I didn’t have much to go on, but I could still check with Emily at Novelty Creations, and see if she had any records of the shipment being picked up. 
    Passing by the detectives’ offices,