Page 83 of Trust No One

“I found the basket inside my house. Do you know how it got inside?”

She typed quickly. “The delivery instructions noted there was a key under a pot on the front porch. The driver was instructed to use it and leave the fruit inside.”

I had hidden a key under the pot when I’d lived here—seventeen years ago. But I’d collected it before I closed the house when I’d left for college. “Is that standard practice?”

“The caller insisted you wouldn’t want it left outside. Fruit can freeze.”

“Who ordered the basket?”

“Gabe Durant.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes. Is there a problem?”

“When was the order placed?”

“Today. One this afternoon.”

He’d been in court—he couldn’t have placed the order. “You’re sure?”

“Yes, ma’am. One o’clock.”

“Thank you.” I ended the call.

Outside, I lifted the cracked pot filled with dirt and empty geraniums. A freshly cut key lay in a ring of mold.

I didn’t touch it. I lowered the pot back down.

I sat on the porch and texted Edith.

Me: Did Gabe send me a fruit basket?

Edith: No. Why would he?

Me: I don’t know. Did you do it for him?

Edith: No.

I dialed Judson.

He picked up on the second ring. “Raine.”

“I had a fruit basket delivery today.” I explained where I’d found it and my call to the company. “The order was placed while Gabe was with me in court. Edith didn’t send it, either.”

He exhaled slowly.

I added, “Even if he’d found a way, it doesn’t add up. He’s never sent anything like that before. I’ve barely spoken to him in the last few years.”

I’d never given permission for anyone other than Gabe or Edith to be in the house.

“Pull up the key. Have your locks changed.”

“I will.”

“You okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine. This is probably not a big deal.”