key held.
DAN PULLED THE CAR into the gravel lot of the post office. Stones flew as he brought the car to an abrupt stop.
“Her brother said it was some kind of opiate.” Kelly sat in the passenger seat, scrutinizing the key in her palm.
Dan glanced at the small, brass object, wondering what answers would be unlocked by the tiny sliver of metal. “Oxygesic?”
Kelly nodded. “He didn’t know that for sure. The family didn’t request more specific testing.”
He gripped the steering wheel, struggling to control the frustration and anger he’d fought to keep in check ever since he’d learned of Rachel’s death. “And that doesn’t seem a bit convenient to you?”
“Convenient?” Kelly met his glare, curiosity shimmering in her brown gaze.
Sudden heat licked low and heavy in Dan’s belly. He shoved the unwanted sensation away, retraining his focus on the mystery he so desperately needed to solve. “That she died with the very drug in her system she’d been investigating.” He cut the ignition, reaching for the door.
“What if it’s a coincidence?”
The uncertainty in Kelly’s voice stopped him cold. He needed her with him on this if they were to find the proof he needed. “You don’t believe me?”
Their gazes locked. Kelly held her ground, but didn’t answer.
He pushed again. “What does your gut tell you?”
Kelly shifted in her seat. “My gut says something’s up.” She spoke the words softly, yet surely.
“Exactly.” Dan opened the driver’s door and nodded to the key now clasped in her fist. “Let’s go.”
“WHAT’S THE NUMBER on the key?” Dan approached the first row of post-office boxes.
“Four-three-six.” Kelly ran her fingers over the metal squares. Two-twenty… Two-sixty-seven. She tipped her head. “This way.”
Dan followed her into a dark corner of the post office. Sand grit beneath her sneakers, and she slipped as they rounded the last row of boxes.
“Help you folks?” A middle-aged woman leaned over the service counter.
Dan stole a quick glance in her direction. “No thanks. We’re good.” He leaned close to Kelly, dropping his voice to a whisper. “She must be new. I’ve never seen her before.”
His breath brushed against Kelly’s cheek, and a whisper of awareness danced down her spine. She stood still for a moment, shocked by the effect of his nearness on her senses.
He turned away, resuming his scan of the box numbers. “Found it.”
His gruff tone snapped her back to reality. She stepped to where he waited and handed him the key. Dan slipped the tiny object into the lock and turned it. The mechanism clicked, and their gazes met.
Kelly’s heart lurched in her throat. The now familiar determination fired from the depths of Dan’s eyes. It was a determination she couldn’t help but admire, even though the look rang chillingly familiar to her memories of Brian.
Dan swung the small metal door open then reached for the stack of waiting envelopes. Kelly held her breath, not knowing what she expected him to find. It wasn’t as if the killer would have mailed Rachel a signed confession—would he? A small spiral notebook appeared as Dan lifted the pile. Butterfly stickers covered the red cover.
“Jackpot.” Kelly reached past him to pluck the notebook from the box, gripping it tightly in her shaking hand.
“Let’s get out of here.” He snapped the box closed, grabbed her elbow and steered her abruptly toward the door.
The strength of his grip startled her, and she eased her arm free from his grasp. “Don’t you want to—”
“Outside.”
A few moments later, they sat in Dan’s car, staring at the box’s contents on their laps.
“What’s in the envelopes?” Kelly’s heart pounded. To think, just yesterday she’d thought her trip would involve nothing more than packing up Rachel’s life. Now she found herself growing obsessed with discovering exactly how that life had ended—and why. She might never have the chance to make amends with Rachel, but she could make amends with her memory.
“Looks like a bunch of junk. An electric bill, a book club ad, a postcard from the chamber of commerce. What’s this?” He turned an envelope in his hand. “State board of pharmacy?”
He ripped the end off the envelope and pulled out a note handwritten on professionally printed letterhead.
“Unable to reach you by phone,” Dan read out loud. “Didn’t want to leave a message. Call me. Think I found what you needed. ‘S.’”
Excitement and hope rushed through Kelly.
Dan scowled. “‘S.’ How the hell am I going to find out who ‘S’ is?”
“What’s the chamber thing?” Kelly tapped the postcard, hoping for another clue.
Dan turned over the small piece. “Business After Hours.” He grimaced, meeting Kelly’s gaze. “It’s a business card exchange. Time of your life.” He shook his head and started to rip the card in two.
Kelly snatched it from his fingers. “Maybe I should go.”
His puzzled gaze captured hers and held. She steeled herself, refusing to be intimidated by his intensity. He narrowed his eyes without saying a word.
She spoke first. “Couldn’t hurt to meet some people. Don’t most of the local business owners attend?”
He nodded, still silent.
Kelly lifted one shoulder then let it drop. “What about the local pharmacist?”
“Don’t even think it.” Dan started the ignition then eased the car out of the space.
Annoyance flashed through her. “I need to know what really happened to Rachel.”
“That makes two of us.”
A muscle worked in his jaw as Kelly scrutinized his sharp profile. “Do you expect me to sit back and let you call the shots?”
“Wouldn’t be a bad idea.” Dan cast a sideways glance, one dark brow arching. “Or do you think he’ll take one look at you and explain the accounting method he uses for his illegal drug sales?”
Kelly crossed her arms over her chest, her annoyance morphing into anger. “What makes you any more qualified for this than me?”
His features softened momentarily, but he seemed to catch himself, restoring his carefully controlled expression. “I know the locals.”
Kelly pulled herself as tall as she could against the passenger seat. “From what
