The Perfect Cover

by Charlotte Byrd

  After leaving Isabelle alone at the motel, I drive to Tessa’s house and go over everything that Isabelle has told me in my head.

  Now, I know why Isabelle had kept everything a secret. Now I know the shame that she has felt and how hard it was for her to get past it. When I park in front of Tessa’s house, I promise myself that one way or another I'm going to pay off her debt.

  When Tessa opens the door, she gives me a coy smile.

  “You’re back,” she says, crossing her arms across her chest.

  This time she's dressed in linen pants and a short sleeve shirt to match.

  “Yes, I'm back. I have to talk to you.”

  “Come in,” she says, spreading her arms out in a grand gesture.

  “I know that I shouldn't have brought that up while Isabelle was here, but we've been traveling together and we've gotten really close.”

  “Tyler, let me interrupt you. I know that you think that I was making something up, but I wasn't. I was telling you the utmost truth.”

  “Tessa, we need the money. How else am I going to get a new identity? How else am I going to start a new life? I can't just go out there and get a job.”

  “I know and I feel for you. I will pay you every last cent, I promise. The problem is that all the money is tied up. I don't have it.”

  “You don't have credit cards?”

  “Listen, I don't owe you an explanation beyond what I have already said.”

  “Yes, you do,” I say, lowering my voice. “You owe me a lot more than this, but I'll accept this for now.”

  Her lips tighten as her jaw clenches up.

  “I didn't have to keep that a secret. Who knows, maybe having an alibi would've prevented this whole mess from happening, but I kept my secret and I didn't tell anyone about you. You owe me. You owe me big.”

  There's a long pause that passes between us. After it's over it feels like something changes.

  “Okay,” she says, relaxing her shoulders. “I know that I owe you and I know that this is a really shitty situation. If I had known that you were coming, I wouldn’t have touched it. How about this? I can give you a few thousand dollars and then you can do a job for me to get the rest.”

  “A job? What kind of job?”

  “I have about 200 grand buried in the desert near Amboy. I have the directions, but it is in these barrels and it will require a bit of digging. As you can imagine, I can't really trust too many people with this information, so I haven't been able to retrieve it in quite some time.”

  I stand before her, flabbergasted. I have no idea how to respond.

  “Do you want to do this or not?” Tessa asks.

  No, actually I don't, I say to myself. What choice do I have?

  “Why?” I ask.

  “Why what?”

  “Why do you have barrels of cash buried in the desert?”

  She takes a step closer to me, narrowing her eyes. On the outside, Tessa looks like a middle school administrator: just friendly enough to put you at ease, but someone who is used to dealing with bullshit so she doesn't have much time for it.

  “Do you really want an answer to that question?” Tessa asks after a long pause.

  I don't need the details to know that it can't be anything good.

  I shake my head.

  “Good,” she says. “Do you want the job or not?”

  “What does it entail, exactly?”

  “The three of us drive out to Amboy. I have the coordinates of the precise location. You and Isabelle dig and get them out of the ground.”

  “Why is it in barrels?” I ask.

  “It is in cash. They're all ones and fives.”

  “Ones and fives? Those barrels are going to be quite big.”

  “They are.”

  “All the money is there?”

  “Yes,” she says. “It's there for safekeeping, but I realize the predicament that I had put you into. I am sorry about that. You know me, I try to be as honest and fair as possible, despite how ugly our business is.”

  I hate the way that she says, ‘our business’. I was never involved in drugs and guns and whatever else she does for a living.

  “Yes,” she says with a little plastic smile on her face. “I did say our business.”

  I glare at her.

  It's almost as if she can read my mind.

  “You were one of my biggest initial investors and I'll always appreciate that. I know that you don't like thinking of yourself as being involved in what I do, but please don't lie to yourself. This is what you do.”

  “With all due respect, Tessa, I ran a hedge fund,” I say after a long pause. “You borrowed some money, you invested in my business, I lent you some money and invested in yours. Never have I ever been involved in the drug trade.”

  “You know, you financiers are all the same,” Tessa says, crossing her arms across her chest. “You think that just because you wear fancy suits and drive expensive cars and work in high-rises that your money is not out there circulating, doing your dirty deeds and making your percentages. Then, when you're in trouble, you come crawling to me.”

  “No,” I say sternly. “I'm not coming to you for help. I came here to get paid. I came here for the money that you owe me. You said that you don't have it and now you're asking me to get my hands dirty to get it back.”

  I hate the way that this conversation is going. I would have never taken it here if she hadn’t start pressing my buttons.

  Despite all of our differences, I know that I have a long drive to Amboy ahead of me, with her in the passenger seat.

  It's the only way that I can get out of this situation and start a new life with Isabelle.

  29

  Isabelle

  When we drive to Amboy…

  When Tyler comes back to the motel room and tells me that early the following morning we will be driving out to a town with a population of ten to retrieve some barrels full of cash, I am more than skeptical. But I’m also relieved.

  If the barrels actually contain the money that we need, then that’s great. Even though this money is in dollar bills or fives, that's better than nothing.

  After a light dinner that I get from the diner next door, I sit by the air-conditioning vent and look out of the only window in the room. I can see the traffic outside on the busy highway rushing past the mountain. There's a stoplight not too far away that seems to get everyone going about sixty miles an hour to a squealing stop.

  “I really miss staying in nice hotels,” Tyler says, staring at his plastic fork when he tries to impale a crouton, and I laugh.

  “Yeah, this must be something to get used to for you.”

  “You have no idea,” he says.

  “Tell me about it.”

  “Well, I grew up pretty well off. My father traveled a lot for work but he made a really good living.”

  The definition of a good living tends to vary a lot, so I ask for details.

  “I think he made about $300k a year,” he says, not blinking an eye. “He was defined by every last cent of that money. When I set out to make my fortune, I decided that I would never let money stand in the way. Yes, I wanted to make a lot, millions. The sky was the limit, but there were certain things that I would not do for money. I also wanted to never change my character.”

  “I don't think it has,” I say after a long pause.

  “No, unfortunately it has. I wasn’t a good husband, not after a while. At first, we were really connected. We loved each other. I thought that I was going to spend an eternity with her. I was excited by that, but after a while, I got so busy with work. It consumed me. I wanted more and more. No number was big enough. Every day I had to make more money than I made the day before. Every quarter I had to top what I made the quarter before. My investors loved me. My wife? She started cheating on me.”

  “You're not responsible for her cheating,” I say. “Just like the women who get cheated on, they're not at fault. It's always a cheater's fault.”

  “B
e that as it may, I could have done better. I could have been there for her more. Instead, I was just there for my clients. People like Tessa.”

  “I know that she doesn't seem like the greatest person right about now, but it really says something that she is still paying you back the money.”

  “Do you think so?” he asks.

  “Yeah,” I say, putting the lid over the plastic container that used to hold my dinner. “I don't know anything about the drug business, but I don't think it's populated with too many honest people, despite what television shows would want you to believe.”

  He puts his lips onto mine.

  “You really are a good person, Isabelle. Don't ever doubt that.”

  I smile at him as he pulls me closer to him.

  He kisses me again and again and I kiss him back. When he runs his fingers down my neck, I pull away.

  “What's wrong?” he asks. “You're not in the mood?”

  “No, it's not that. It's that I just got my period.”

  “That's okay.” He smiles. “I don't mind.”

  “No, I can't. I'm all bloated and uncomfortable and my head hurts.”

  “Okay, let's just lie down in bed and I will hold you.”

  “That's it?” I ask.

  He nods and grabs my hand, pulling me onto the bed and under the covers.

  He wraps his body tightly around mine as I lie on my side. His knees fold under my knees and his arms drape over mine.

  The moon comes out and peeks over the mountain outside. I close my eyes and fall into a deep peaceful sleep.

  It takes about two hours to get to Amboy through some of the harshest desert I have ever seen.

  Don't get me wrong, it’s also beautiful, breathtaking, and wild.

  We leave around nine and pick up Tessa along the way. We drive north through Yucca Valley and Joshua Tree and pass the US Marine Base in a town called 29 Palms, which only has two streetlights.

  There's a large grocery store, Stater Brothers, and a few barber shops and tattoo parlors, all of which have large murals painted on the walls. Following the directions on the GPS that take us closer to the Marine base, we hear the bombs detonating out at the fake Iraqi town near the base.

  The directions take us further into the desert, where the creosote bushes flatten out and turn into sand. Another small settlement pops up, filled with nothing but a few cabins scattered on five-acre plots.

  There are no stores or restaurants visible from the road and I remember reading that this place was founded by the Homestead Act from the 1950s, selling cheap land to anyone willing to build on it. After we pass Wonder Valley, we go over a long tall ridge and then dip down into an even drier and arid valley below.

  I look out the window and lose myself. The lack of people and plethora of nature is comforting about this place. There are no tall trees or gorgeous mountain peaks, and the outside world appears to be almost nature in disguise. Maybe it's the fact that the nature is almost in disguise. It’s uneven, rugged, and overwhelming and it brings a tear to my eye.

  When I see a crater looming in the distance, I know that we are near Amboy. There's a small gas station and a few cottages that don't seem to be open for overnight visitors nearby.

  Tyler takes a sharp left and drives toward the crater. Millions of years ago a large asteroid hit this place, folding the earth upon itself. When I looked it up online, most of the sites were created by devotees of paranormal activities.

  Right before we reach the crater, Tyler takes the road that veers right. This little car is not the best thing for driving out on the rough terrain, but it will have to do. I just hope that it can make it back out without overheating.

  Once the drive is over, the three of us talk about anything and everything to fill the time. I'm surprised that Tessa has chosen us for this endeavor, but perhaps Tyler is right; there aren’t many people that she can trust.

  When we get there, a cold breeze sweeps over the imposing crater and I put on my flannel shirt. It's springtime and the sun feels unusually hot, but there is still a cold breeze that can startle you and chill you to your bones.

  “There,” Tessa says, pointing to a small rock laying on top of the ground.

  It doesn’t look like anything at first, but when you look closer, you can see that it doesn't quite belong here. It's black and made of smooth glass, very different from the sandstone and granite that surrounds it.

  “There it is,” Tessa says. “That's where I buried it.”

  Tyler opens the trunk and brings out two shovels that Tessa had in her garage. I wish that she would volunteer to help, but she doesn't. Instead she takes a few steps away from us in her linen suit and lights a cigarette.

  Anger starts to rise up within me, but I refuse to succumb to it without first figuring out if the money is actually here.

  I know that Tyler deserves a lot better than this, but beggars can't be choosers. Isn’t that how the phrase goes?

  I point the shovel down and step on it to drive it into the ground. The earth is as hard as a rock. It's not like the soft dark soil that I have back in Pennsylvania.

  It feels like it's even harder than the ground would be under a layer of ice. Perhaps, that's an exaggeration, but I start to sweat profusely after only a few forceful scoops.

  I glance at Tyler and see that he is doing a lot better than I am. He is strong and powerful and continues to work without taking a break.

  The only time he pauses is to take down some water and to take off his shirt. His six pack glistens in the desert sun and instead of chopping away at my section, I just want to grab him, press him against the car, and have him do bad things to me.

  After almost an hour, Tyler’s shovel finally hits something hard. He points at it and I kneel down and move some of the rocks and gravel away with my hands, revealing the top of the barrel.

  “It's here!” I say excitedly. “It's here!”

  Tessa walks over slowly and looks down into the hole.

  “I told you.”

  I wait for her to get a little bit more enthused, but instead she turns her attention to her phone and finds some shade.

  I don't care. It's finally going to happen, I say to myself. We're going to have the money and we can get as far away from here as possible.

  About an hour more of back-breaking work, we finally pull the barrel out of the ground. Tessa walks over and opens the top. I look down to see what’s inside; it’s full of money.

  Some of the bills are tied up with rubber bands, but most are just in stacked in piles. Ones and fives definitely do take up a lot of room.

  When we put the lid back on and roll it over behind the car, Tessa points to another smooth black rock and tells us that the other barrel is here. Drenched in sweat and exhausted from the effort that I had already put in, I want to take a break.

  Tyler refuses.

  Instead, he gets straight back to work.

  Just as we are about to pull the other barrel out of the ground, a car turns onto the dirt road that leads to our parking spot.

  As it approaches, my heart starts to beat faster. It’s driving too fast and kicks up too much dust to make out the make or model.

  Tyler points to the car and asks, “Who is that?”

  It takes a moment to realize what's happening, but then he furrows his brow and glares at Tessa.

  “Who did you call?” he hisses at her.

  She shakes her head and she looks as surprised as we are.

  Before anyone can do anything, the car comes to a sudden stop and three people get out.

  “Hey there!” a familiar voice yells out and I realize that it belongs to Mac.

  When he takes a few steps closer to me, I recognize the girl by his side.

  It's Maggie.

  The other man, tall and handsome, stands a little bit behind them and I don't know who he is.

  “What are you doing here?” Tyler asks.

  “Well, I came to collect my debt,” Mac says.

  “W
hat are you talking about?” Tyler asks.

  I glance over at Tessa who looks as confused as I do. I wonder if it's an act, but then the more that they talk, the more that I realize that this is something between Tyler and Mac.

  “You owe me,” Mac says. “For saving your life in prison and you owe me for what you and your girlfriend were about to do to us before we split.”

  “What are we going to do?” Tyler asks. “Who is he?”

  “This is Nicholas Crawford. My partner. He helped me out of a jam, more than a few times, which isn’t exactly what I can say about you.”

  “What are you talking about?” Tyler asks. “I was there for you in Hannibal. I picked you up when the whole world was looking for you.”

  “Yes, I'll give you that. You did, but I saved your life in prison and you still owe me for that. Besides, I need the money, you know I do.”

  “This money doesn't belong to you,” Tyler says.

  “Well, technically, it doesn't really belong to you either.”

  “Yes, it does. Tessa owes it to me and I’m taking it with me.”

  “No, you’re not,” Mac says, pulling out a gun.

  Maggie takes a step away from him.

  “Mac, put that gun down. C’mon, man,” Nicholas says.

  When I squint, I glance over at him and see the strong outline of his jaw and the straightness of his nose. His hair falls softly in his face.

  Who is this mysterious stranger?

  Mac doesn't listen. He shakes his head.

  “Take that barrel and roll it this way,” Mac says to Nicholas.

  “Listen, I came out here as a favor, but I had no idea that you were going to be doing this. No, you've got to work this out in some other way.”

  When Mac refuses, he shakes his head and points the gun in Nicholas’s face.

  “Maggie, you better do as I say!” he yells over to her.

  She does so without hesitation.

  “Listen, Mac, let's talk about this,” Tyler says, taking a step closer to him. “Whatever you think I owe you, we can work it out. There's enough money here for everyone.”