Chapter 9: The New Lock

Lyle Kenyon walked into my store before six with the note under his arm.

He told the locksmith to fit the new deadbolt while he stood there.

The locksmith set his drill case down on the mat and went to work on the door.

Lyle laid the store's copy of the note on the counter inside.

He laid the sale book beside it and squared the edges with two fingers.

"Leave the key on the counter when you're done," he said. "I'll be standing right here."

The locksmith fitted the cylinder and tested it twice.

Garner came up the pad with his key ring already in his hand.

He put the old key in the new lock and turned it.

The lock did not move.

"Thirty years," Garner said to the glass. "I've had that key in my pocket thirty years."

Lyle picked up the sale book and opened it to the green-ink page.

He held it up to the window and turned it slowly, first one way, then the other.

His mouth went flat.

He was looking at the two signatures. Both of them.

He knows, I thought. He's known since he put the book on that counter, and he's checking whether anyone else can see it.

Dessa hit the glass with the flat of her hand.

"I'll swear it at that bank," she shouted through it. "I'll swear what you made me sign. Every word."

Lyle lowered the sale book and looked at her through the window.

"And the notary will swear you came to me as Carol Gentry's bookkeeper," he said, "and signed it of your own free will, and thanked me for the work."

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