The Deliveryman (Lincoln Rhyme 11.50)

It was then that Ortiz laughed. "What if he wasn't going to hide the shipment itself?"

"What do you mean?"

"You were nervous about a sting or surveillance. Maybe he was too. He meets the truck in the armory, tries out a product or two, makes sure they're all there. But he's worried and wants some escape plan. So he's arranged for the guy who picked up the shipment at the Jersey train depot to keep it and take it to, I don't know, a self-storage unit somewhere."

Morales was nodding. Smart. It was a smart plan.

Connie added, "He writes down the details, the address of the storage place and combination to the lock, in the church. That's what he hides here." A nod at the church.

Morales had to laugh. He looked at the boy. "Your papa knew what he was about."

"Unless," Stan Coelho was saying, "it's a red herring."

"How so?"

"Just trying to lead off anybody following him."

Morales noticed the agent's eyes were on the boy's pencil box.

Coelho asked, "Where'd you get that?"

"It's mine," he said defiantly.

"I didn't ask that. I want to know where you got it."

"My daddy gave it to me."

"When?"

"Yesterday."

"Shit, that's got the information in it. The storage space. Probably the key. He's had it all along." He reached for it.

"Mine!" Javier cried. "There's no key in it." The boy pulled away. "My daddy had one but he didn't give it to me."

Morales waved his hand and Coelho backed off. "Your daddy had one what?"

"A key."

"Where did he get it?"

"When we stopped here, he took it out of the glove compartment thing, you know. And he took it into the church."

"You know where he put it?"

"No. I stayed here and drawed. Came back just a minute later and we drove off, to Chinatown."

Morales said, "Let's go. We'll all go to look." They climbed out of the SUV and headed for the church. Coelho kept his hand on Javier's shoulder. If the key wasn't here, Morales would tell the agent to go to work and get the boy to talk. He couldn't afford to waste any more time.

Inside, the dark church was largely deserted, only a few worshipers were present, scattered around the space, lost in prayer or contemplation. Morales was wondering how to search for the key and not make anyone suspicious. But then he realized that Rinaldo would have thought of this; he'd hide the key in a place that was easy to get to naturally.

Not the holy water font. Not the altar. Even under a pew or kneeler would have been too risky; an exploring child might find it, or a parishioner who dropped a wallet or coin.

Ah, but then he saw what might be the answer.

A votive candle rack.

No unsupervised children. And no one would think twice about someone reaching into the rack to light a candle to the Lord or the Virgin.