I knew the distinctive shape of that key at once.

It was a double-cylinder high-security key with a ninety-degree sidebar notch, custom-made to work the reinforced deadbolt on the basement vault door.

I watched the red-tagged key catch the harsh kitchen light.

The sidebar notch was cut deep into the brass, a precise pattern no ordinary hardware store could copy.

Only David and I had ever been issued keys to that deadbolt.

My own key was locked in the hidden compartment of my military travel pack upstairs.