Sure enough, it was the box.
With a little thrill, I walked over to a shelf, setting the box down and opening it.
The twinkling music filled the quiet store. Instead of comforting, though, it was oddly eerie. Like an ice cream truck in a horror movie.
My heartbeat fluttered as I felt around inside the box, looking for some lever or something. Like this was a freaking spy movie.
In the end, the trick was much simpler than that.
The little ballerina could be pulled up to reveal a small space below. It wasn’t much. You couldn’t even get more than two fingers in the space. But when I felt around inside, I found something cold and hard hidden inside.
Snagging it awkwardly between my fingers, I drew out the little capsule-shaped piece of plastic.
I didn’t need to remove the cover on the end to know exactly what I was dealing with.
A flash drive.
She’d hidden a flash drive in the bottom of the box.
I had no idea what the pretty, young Robin Moody could have gotten herself wrapped up in, what kind of information she’d squirreled away.
But it was something worth killing for.
My fist curled around it like it was too dangerous to even let the bric-a-brac in the shop see.
I shoved the little ballerina back into place before closing the lid.
The silence in the shop was enough to make my ears buzz, to make my eardrums flutter, a disorienting sensation that had my belly flip-flopping.
I had the strangest urge to break out in song just to break up the quiet.
What was Robin hiding?
What was worth giving up her life to protect?
Well, I guess I was going to find out.
Because as soon as I grabbed Tuna, and maybe a slice of pizza on the way home, I was going to stick the drive in my laptop, and go through the contents.
Was the smart, moral, correct thing to be to turn the thing over to the cops? Sure. But, well, you didn’t get to be related to the Costa Family without having a healthy dose of skepticism for the NYPD. Not only because they could be ineffective, but also corrupt. I knew for a fact that Lorenzo had several cops, detectives, and members of the forensics team on his payroll.
And, hey, I would probably turn it over.
After I found out what was on it.
I felt like I at least owed it to the Family to make sure there was nothing about their organization in it. Because that wascertainly information an outsider would kill to get their hands on.
The drive suddenly felt a little too heavy in my hand.
I’d just set the box back on the shelf when there was a noise significantly worse than the sudden, sharp quiet.
A footstep.
My heart shot right up into my throat, a fist of fear strangling me immediately.
My hand shot out, reaching for something, anything I could use to defend myself.
But I was standing by a stack of old magazines, a box of tangled costume jewelry, and four old portable personal CD players.
