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IVY SLID THE LONG SAFETY deposit box from the bank’s vault, which must have dated to the 1950s. The First Summer Beach Bank clerk was a trim young man who looked like he’d rather be surfing.
“Not many people use these old relics anymore,” the young man said as he removed the double set of keys and returned one to Ivy. “I’m told there used to be a waiting list for them, but many of our customers have their own safes or home security systems now.”
It wasn’t hard for Ivy to imagine that sophisticated systems in the lavish ridgetop estates might be more effective than the security in this bank, which also seemed like a relic of a bygone era. That probably wasn’t the case, but even if it were, she rather liked the old bank. She could just imagine Amelia Erickson sauntering in here to visi
