Page 23 of Shielding Serena

Walker didn’t budge from his position in front of Serena. “Jar of keys that was on the back of the register area is gone. I remember seeing them yesterday afternoon when we did a walkthrough. We didn’t touch anything. Didn’t make it further into the room than this, to preserve the scene.”

Garrett grunted in response and used the mic on his shoulder to call in his deputies. “Can you go back to the ranch?”

“Categorically not,” Serena said, with even more feeling than when she’d refuted Walker’s suggestion.

Garrett sighed and it was a long-suffering sound. “Serena, I need to process the scene, and it’s harder when you’re here. What I need from you right now is another walk-through to see if anything else is missing, then I need to do my job.”

Now that she could understand. She squeezed Walker’s hand, and stood, steady on her feet now. “Okay, I can do that. The keys were in a standard mason jar, and were a conglomeration of stuff Madeline either bought that way, or collected. They don’t mean anything, are something folksy I wanted on the back wall. We should probably look at the storage unit as well, to make sure he hasn’t been there.”

A deputy she recognized as Addie’s younger, dumber brother burst through the front door, excitement plain on his face. Garrett sighed. “Do your walkthrough but don’t touch anything. We’re going to canvass the exterior and figure out how he got in when Grady, here, was sitting surveillance last night.”

Grady’s face fell from excitement into despondency. “I didn’t see anyone,” he protested. “I watched the front door all night.”

“And yet something’s missing. Serena, can you doublecheck that Gena didn’t take it last night, even though we both know that isn’t the case?”

She started to protest that Gena would never do such a thing, especially with the police tape still up, but Garrett held up a hand. “I need to rule everything out. Do your search and we’ll head outside to see if we can find a different point of entry.”

Serena nodded and pulled out her phone as the law enforcement officers left.

“Hey boss, how are you feeling?” Gena’s perpetually cheerful voice gave Serena a boost.

“Better,” she said. “Hey, you didn’t happen to come in last night and take the mason jar of keys, maybe to show Jackson?” The boy was endlessly inquisitive.

“The key jar? Why in the world would I do that? Plus, as far as I knew, it was still a crime scene. Jackson and were in Flagstaff at a doctor’s appointment, and then we went home.” She paused and suspicion filled her tone. “What happened?”

“I’ll fill you in later,” Serena promised. “I needed to verify, even though I knew that probably wasn’t the case. Have a good night, and see you in the morning, okay? It promises to be a barnburner. Everyone wants to know what’s going on.”

“They’re not the only ones,” Gena muttered as Serena disconnected.

“You had to ask,” Walker said, having heard enough of the conversation to figure out what they’d already known. “Now let’s do the walk through. I agree that going to the storage unit is a good idea, and it gives Garrett time to do his thing.”

“And hey, maybe I can look for Mr. Higgins’ statuette while I’m at it,” she joked, anything to push away the disquiet raging through her body and mind, then realized it was the perfect opportunity to do just that. There’d be something good to come out of this after all, dammit.

They took Walker’s truck to the storage yard, in case she decided to bring something back bigger than her sedan could manage. Plus, Walker wanted to be in charge of the situation until they had a better idea of exactly what had happened last night or this morning, and that included being the one to do the driving.

The storage facility was on the Rimrock Creek side of Cottonwood, so close enough to make the trip easy and fast, but not right around the corner. It was a typical set-up, with climate-controlled indoor units, standard outdoor units, and RV and boat storage. Serena’s unit was outside, near the back gate. She spun the combination--her birthday--and lifted the gate.

Walker vowed he’d get a much, much better lock and then braced himself for chaos.

He was shocked to see that entryway of the unit was orderly, with a neat row of clearly labeled boxes. He knew it had to be Serena’s doing, because Madeline Blackstone had never been so organized.

Then he looked past the stack and into the interior and fought back a grin, despite this morning’s drama.

It was an explosion of boxes and bags and fake greenery and taxidermy on the walls. An overloaded coatrack of hats and handbags looked like a bizarre tree of different textures and shapes and colors. Yeah, this was more what he’d expected.

Serena stood with her hands on her hips and looked past the boxes and into the fray. “I swear, it keeps growing every time I’m in here, like there’s a portal at the back or something.” She sent him a sly look. “Maybe one of the vortexes everyone talks about?”

He snorted in response. This venture into Madeline’s madness was exactly what they’d both needed to take their minds off what had happened.

“So,” she said, returning her scrutiny to the task at hand. “If you were an antique figurine from one of the gazillion estate sales Madeline went to, where would you be?”

Walker had exactly zero idea how to answer that, so waited for her direction. It seemed safer. He would lift things all day long if it’d help her keep her mind occupied.

They spent an hour rifling through odd-sized boxes, including another treasure trove of some truly outrageous purses, a suitcase full of vintage used postcards and, what truly caught his attention, a shoebox stuffed to the brim with pristine baseball cards. While he could certainly appreciate them, Malcolm would be over the moon at such a find.

“I’ll pay whatever you want for these,” he said, knowing she wouldn’t overcharge him, and that if something valuable was in there, they’d pay her back appropriately.

“They’re yours,” she said without even hesitating as she rifled through a storage bin full of dolls. “For everything you’re doing.”