Elodie came out barefoot, eyes on the floor, and hurried to my side.

“Daddy,” she whispered, clutching my shirt.

“Tell the police officer to look in Grandma’s nightstand drawer.” My mother’s head snapped up.

“What drawer?

What are you talking about, Elodie?” My daughter looked at the officer with wide, fearful eyes.

“The drawer she locks with a little key.