“Please,” I said through the door. “You know he wasn’t there. Tell them the truth.”
She would not answer me from behind that closed door.
Through a gap I spotted a shelf above her television. A brown stuffed horse with a yarn mane sat between a photo and candle.
Dalton bought it during the nine days in Fort Smith. Police photographed it beside Nora at the motel. I’d wondered why it never came home with her.
Sheila retained it.
I returned to my car. A locked door would not make her listen.
Monday, Shelton told us the warrant for Dalton’s phone and account was signed. Collecting and reviewing records would take time. Troopers would be close by overnight, out of sight.
Grant proposed skipping work Tuesday. Shelton warned that changing routines could tip off Dalton before evidence gathering ended. I suggested staying with my sister.
Nothing reassured me. We discussed the tablet, what Dalton might notice, and the officers close by. We remained home.
