I turned the silver wedding ring on my finger twice, sizing up the cuts on the brass blank.

The key had four deep teeth, a double side groove and a rounded tip.

It was the custom security pattern made only for high-level defense deadbolts.

It was the exact key pattern for my secure basement intelligence vault.

Only two keys had ever been cut for that basement lock.

One was sealed inside my military travel bag.

The other had been on David’s personal key ring at his funeral three weeks ago.

My purse had been sitting on the hallway bench for three hours while relatives gathered after the cemetery service.