His expression sharpens. “To what?”
“His lockbox.”
“Where is it?”
“I don’t know.”
“You never opened it?”
“No. I was sixteen. I assumed it held paperwork, money, maybe the title to his motorcycle.” My throat tightens. “After he died, I forgot about it.”
“But you kept the key.”
“Yes. It’s still on my charm bracelet.”
“Where’s the bracelet?”
“At my house.”
Doc closes his eyes briefly.
“The house we don’t know is secure.”
“The bracelet isn’t the important part. We need to find Grant’s lockbox.”
“Where did he keep it?”
“In the garage, I think.”
“You think?”
“It was fifteen years ago.”
“Would your mother have known about it?”
The question makes me go still.
Mom knew about Grant’s Army bag.
She knew about the journal.
She knew enough about his final deployment to ask Wolf and Trigger to stay away from me.
And she knew Grant had given me that key.
“I think she moved it.”
“Why?”
“Because after Grant died, Mom went through everything he owned. His clothes. His motorcycle parts. Boxes from his apartment. She kept some things and donated others.”
“But not the journal.”
“No.”
The truth settles slowly.
“She hid that.”