“I think Pilar did. She’ll reconnect them tomorrow.”
“What in the world do you three do in your job?” Even in the darkness, she could see his shrug.
“If I told you to wait for me in your car, what would you do?”
“You mean you’d tell me to be a good girl and wait for big shot you? How about if I turn on the car lights and the alarm and blow the horn while I wait for the police, who I plan to call immediately?”
“That’s what I was afraid of,” Eli said as he sat up. “I did bring some duct tape. Maybe I should . . .”
“Funny,” Chelsea said as she stood up. “Remind me later to laugh. So did you find out about the lock or not?”
“I did. Pilar will get a duplicate tomorrow morning and replace the one I have to cut away tonight.” He picked up a black backpack from the ground and put it on.
“I’m surprised she didn’t break into a hardware store tonight.”
“Me, too,” Eli said.
Chelsea was being sarcastic, but he was in earnest. “I don’t know how you’re not in prison.”
“I’ve only been arrested three times,” he said proudly as they reached the corner of Grace’s property. “Do you think you can get over the fence? If not, you can wait for me on this side.”
“You remember all those ballet lessons I used to complain about?” She didn’t give him time to reply. There’d been no toehold when she’d gone over the fence at Orin’s house, but the chain link gave her a place to put her feet. She’d worn soft, supple shoes that allowed her feet to flex. In a graceful move, in an instant she was up and over the fence and on the other side. “Want some help?” she whispered to Eli through the metal.
“No, but I wouldn’t mind seeing you do that again.” He easily vaulted up and over the metal.
“After the way you left me tonight,” she hissed, “I’m not doing anything for you ever again. I— Oh!” Eli had grabbed her about the waist and swung her over a few feet.
“Dog,” he said and nodded toward the side. Lying on the ground was a big German Shepherd, sound asleep. Chelsea had almost stepped on him.
“Pilar?” she asked.
Eli nodded, then motioned to the shed.
They stopped at the door. Eli looked around, then removed bolt cutters from his pack. The lock snapped easily and within seconds they were inside. “Don’t turn on the overhead light,” he said. He pulled out a little flashlight and shone it around.
Chelsea hadn’t thought about what she’d expected to see inside, probably the usual things bought off TV then tossed into storage, kids’ toys, and boxes of old clothes. But instead there was a single row of stacked file boxes, all of them shoved up against the back wall. From the look of the cobwebs and the dust on the floor, they hadn’t been touched in years.
“What now?” Chelsea asked.
“You start at that end and I’ll take this one.”
“Do you have any idea what we’re looking for?”
“None,” Eli said as he opened the first box. It was full of receipts from Longacre Furniture and different suppliers. They had been tossed into the box, with no file folders, no organization. Eli looked at the dates and saw that they were years apart. “I think someone emptied folders into here.”
Chelsea had also opened a box. Some of the documents in it had been wadded into balls, as though they’d been discarded. The second box she opened had been shredded. She held it up so Eli could see the contents, which were long strips of confetti.
“I think someone cleaned out trash bins and threw the contents into these boxes,” she said.
“My assessment exactly. I think it’s useless for us to try to find something in here. We have to turn these over to someone else.”
“FBI? CIA? FedEx them to your friend the president?”
Eli took out his phone. “No. Someone more important. I think we should give these to Dad and let his accountants put it all back together.”
“Ha! They’ll turn the boxes over to some underpaid women to sort through, then they’ll—”
“Sorry to interrupt your female-persecution complex, but most of Dad’s accountants are women, and I gave him some German software that can piece together the shredded strips.”