Sophie picked up a wooden broom leaning against the metal gear cabinet.

“I’ll start sweeping around the workbench,” she said.

I reached into the dark space behind the metal tackle cases where Daniel’s wooden box had been sitting three weeks before.

The bottom shelf was empty now, swept clean of dust and iron filings.

I put a cardboard box on the floor and started collecting the rust-spotted padlocks Dean had left scattered in the bottom drawer.

“What did the prosecutor say about the stolen money?” Sophie asked.