"8 Minutes to Sunday" Episode 18, The Mystery of Dalton West Book 2

Today on 8 Minutes to Sunday, Dalton learns a secret about Sally that deepens his suspicion.

“I know you can take them hand to hand,” I said. “But it would be better if they never got that close.”

She kissed me.

“I love you Dalton West,” she said. “We are going to be fine.”

If you haven't read the first Dalton West mystery, find the links here.

New to this story? Follow the bullet links to find the right episode!

8 Minutes to Sunday, Episode One

“I’m sorry, Mr. West,” the bank manager said. “I’d like to help, but I’d lose my job if I gave you that information about an account holder.”

“I understand,” I said.

“But, she’s not an account holder,” a voice said.

It was a teller. She had short hair and freckles.

“Excuse me?” the manager said.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to overhear, but they really need to give you an office with walls,” she said. “But, bank policy says to be an account holder, a customer has to open a signature account.”

“Yes,” the manager said. “But she did that three days ago.”

“Well, actually, you sent her to us with the paperwork, but there was a problem,” the girl said.

“But, she’s been back twice,” Pete, the bank manager said.

“Yes, to put something in a safe deposit box,” she said.

“What?” I asked.

“Can’t tell you that,” she said.

“Not without a court order,” the manager said. “Sorry.”

Without seeing what was in that safe deposit box, I was no closer to knowing the truth. I walked out to my truck and climbed in. Someone tapped on my window.

“Excuse me, sheriff?” the teller said.

I rolled down the window. “Yes,” I said.

“I’m not supposed to tell you this, but the girl. She didn’t put anything in her box,” she said. “She had me do it. She was afraid of being in the bank too long.”

“But, let me guess, you can’t tell me what?” I said.

“Well, I shouldn’t,” she said. “But, it was cash.”

“Okay, is that unusual?” I asked.

“No, not at all,” she said. “But the amount was.”

“How much?” I asked.

The teller looked back at the bank, nervously. “Well, I didn’t count it, but it was a strap of hundreds each time.”

“A strap, what’s that?” I asked.

“Uh, the paper bands we use for bundling cash. If they were all there, it’s a hundred bills,” she said.

“Wow, so that’s what, thirty thousand?” I said.

“Yeah, a lot of money for a traveler that doesn’t have a credit card,” she said.

“Okay, thanks,” I said. “So, could you keep this quiet, please?”

“I wasn’t supposed to tell you, but Pete said tell you whatever I knew,” she said. “So, I won’t be telling anyone else.”

That would prove to be a lie. But, she didn’t know it.

“Thanks,” I said.

She walked back inside.

Thirty thousand in cash. In hundred-dollar bills. Banded hundred-dollar bills. Weird. Sally Earl and I were going to have to have a long conversation. I needed to know why she seemed so familiar and why she was carrying around so much cash in my town. Something was definitely off.

I drove over to the Robinson house where Leeanne and whoever she was, were working. The downstairs painting was finished. Leeanne came down the stairs as I came in.

“Fred?” she said.

“Yes?” Fred answered.

His voice came from the stairs.

“Watch DJ a minute,” she said.

She grabbed my arm and dragged me back out the door to the porch.

“Something’s off with her, Dalton,” she said. “I don’t know who she is, but she was never at The Farm, and she never met my sister.”

“Yeah,” I said. “That’s just the beginning.”

CHECK OUT MY LATEST PROJECT!