He checked that the files were there, locked the screen, and placed the phone inside a clear evidence bag while I watched.
“Please don’t let it die,” I said. “Everything is on there.”
“We have it,” he answered. “You did your part.”
Footsteps pounded down the stairs, and Marcus’s mother appeared in the doorway with the gold chain bouncing against her church dress.
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The key hung at the center of her chest.
“I can open it,” she said quickly. “I’ve been taking care of her.”
She reached for the chain, but the officer stopped her before she touched the cage.
The door was no longer merely locked.
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