Carefully, Cyrus peeled back the flap. A set of car keys fell out on the counter.

“Hot damn,” Cyrus said.

“That looks like a padlock key.” Nora pointed at the littlest key on the ring.

“Get the thing,” he said.

Nora ran into the other room, came back with the duffel bag. Cyrus passed her another set of gloves. She pulled the chastity device out of the bag and set it on a few paper towels that Cyrus had set out.

Cyrus tried the key. The lock popped open.

“Okay, so there goes my theory,” Nora said.

Cyrus didn’t answer, too busy thinking.

“Keys in the mailbox. No stamp. Somebody found the keys? No.”

“If they just found them on the street, they wouldn’t know who they belonged to.”

“Right.” Cyrus nodded. “So somebody had the keys already, found out Ike was dead, and wanted to return them quietly.”

“Somebody who likes butterflies. Who likes butterflies?”

“Father Ike did. He had that poem in his Bible.”

“He was in love with someone who likes butterflies? Maybe? Or sleeping with someone who likes butterflies?”

“We don’t know that. It’s a guess, but we can’t say that for sure.” Cyrus turned the envelope over and looked inside but found nothing other than that one butterfly sticker.

“Doesn’t seem possible it’s just a coincidence though, does it?”

No, it didn’t.

And something else…

“Grand Isle,” Cyrus said. “It has a butterfly dome. Some kind of park, all butterflies. Ike went on vacation there in June. In July, he booked a two-month stay on Grand Isle at a different place, a real secluded place. Lady who met him said Father Ike asked what there was to do around there. She said ‘beach, nature hikes, biking, and the butterfly dome.’”

“So he wanted to go back because he likes butterflies,” Nora said. “Or because he knew someone who did.”

Cyrus needed to think and think hard and think deep.

“I’m going for a walk,” he said.

“You want me to come?”

“No, you stay here. Keep looking. I’m gonna walk from here to where we found the car again.”

“Why? We already found the keys.”

Cyrus turned so that he was facing the street. “You have any trouble getting a parking spot on this street?”

“No. I parked right in front of the house.”

“You see lots of spots?”

“Half the street was empty.”

“Right. Exactly.” Cyrus wagged his finger at her. “Ike didn’t park his car three blocks away because there was no parking here. He parked it there for a reason.”

“What reason?”

“Ike had his own apartment at St. Valentine’s, but he came here to the church’s guest house a mile away, supposedly for ‘peace and quiet.’ Sister Margaret said he likes the neighborhood. What’s so special about this neighborhood?”

“What are you thinking?”

“Maybe the man or woman he gave his keys to lives around here. Maybe that’s why he came here. I just want to see what I can see.”