“The navy tin,” I gasped, pressing both palms to my temples as everything fell into place.

Lucas looked at me with sudden understanding breaking through his sorrowful face.

“Did Joanne tell you about the storage tin before she died?” he asked eagerly.

“She warned me never to let Patrick get hold of it,” I answered, turning toward the back door.

Mrs.

Henderson jabbed an urgent finger at the back porch door.

“Then don’t waste one more second standing out here in the cold,” the old woman ordered.

I raced up the wooden back steps and tore through the silent rooms until I reached my mother’s bedroom closet.