Chapter Two
Mark sat in his Jeep, the engine idling, taking in the white cargo van and storage unit.
Of the fifty storage lockers on the island, he knew only two were used legitimately for storing personal effects, one by a family man who couldn’t part with anything, including the rusted-out ’75 Gremlin that had been his first vehicle, stored under what he suspected were boxes and boxes of memorabilia anyone else would have thrown out, and the other an old-timer who was a hoarder and had been ordered to clean out the aisles of garbage that filled his house.
If anything, Mark had learned that storage lockers held the kinds of things people couldn’t keep at home.
He was at a loss for words after realizing the Roche Harbor police department had a locker in which to store police case files
