“Grandpa, it’s Luke. You put the chain on again.”
“That’s because I’m trying to keep everyone out!” an old voice hissed back.
“Grandpa,” Luke repeated, trying to hide his frustration, “you have to open the door.”
Silence.
“Is there another way in? I don’t think he’s going to open it,” I said quietly.
“Stand back, I’ve had to do this before.”
I stepped back a few feet, startled as Luke kicked open the door in one swift motion. I may have let out a quick scream.
“You reattached the chain lock?” Luke’s tone was accusatory as we walked into the house. “Grandpa, I’ve broken it twice. Stop reattaching it.”
“Then stop coming in,” he sneered, turning around to face us. “Who’s this? You think you can just bring guests here? This isn’t your house.”
“I’m Lexi,” I said politely, extending my hand. He didn’t bother to shake it.
“This is Cliff,” Luke said dryly. “He hates noise, medicine, and people. And animals. And breathing.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Cliff.” I tried to remain sweet, but the way this man was snarling at me, I wondered how long I could keep it up.
“Your dress is too short,” he said with a scowl.
“Well, it’s actually a swim wrap. We were kayaking earlier, and I didn’t have a change of clothes. I’m sorry, I’ll be better prepared next time.”
“Next time? You think you just get to walk in and out of here like this nitwit?” He was gesturing toward Luke.
“I at least passed seventh grade algebra,” I said with an animated shrug. “So maybe I’m one step up from nitwit? I think I’m more likeable at least.” I wasn’t a hundred percent certain, but I was pretty sure his tan, wrinkled face cracked a smile.
“Get the poison and let’s get this over with,” he replied in his gruff voice. Luke headed toward the kitchen and Cliff followed him, leaving me alone in the living room. A brown cat peeked around the corner, but ran away as soon as I looked at it. There were at least seven small grandfather clocks on various walls, and there appeared to be a few more in the adjacent room. I wondered how many there were throughout the rest of the house.
I could hear muffled conversation coming from the kitchen, but I had no desire to eavesdrop. Instead, I walked around the room, looking at each of the clocks. They were all so intricate – small, ornate carved lines into the wood. Delicate, thin metal was used for the clock faces. They reminded me of an old clock in storage that my parents had left when they moved. I had no intention of ever hanging it in my apartment, but I saved it because I remembered it from my grandparents’ house back when I was a young child. They were long since deceased and I couldn’t part with the memory, even though it was just sitting tucked away in a box.
“Don’t touch that,” Cliff hissed as he walked back into the room. He had a white piece of medical tape on his arm that I didn’t recognize before, and I wondered if Luke had to use an actual needle to administer his medicine. Perhaps that’s why Cliff wasn’t able to handle it himself – though I doubted he could be trusted with the task either way.
“This reminds me of a clock I have,” I began, turning to smile at him. His bitter frown remained unchanged. “It has these markings on it, similar to this one.” I turned to point at one of the clocks on the wall next to where I was standing.
“Don’t touch it!” His bark was loud, and I didn’t move. “Yours is a knock off. It’s not like any of mine. Don’t ever compare your…”
“We can go now, Lexi,” Luke interrupted, walking back into the room.
“You’re not invited back,” Cliff sneered.
“What if I bring the clock with me? Can you tell me about it?”
“I can tell you it’s a worthless piece of garbage,” he muttered. “It’s a fake.”
“It was nice to meet you, Cliff. These clocks are really lovely.” I offered him one more polite smile, but his face still remained unchanged.
Luke escorted us out of the cabin, instructing his grandfather to leave the chain lock alone. We climbed back into his truck.
“Well, he’s a man of few words,” I commented as we pulled away.
“I told you he was bitter. I haven’t seen that guy smile since I was seven. Don’t take it personally.”
“What happened when you were seven?”
“What?”
“You said he smiled then. What happened? What made him smile? What changed?”
“That was back when my grandma was still alive I guess.” He grew quiet. “Not that everything was better back then, but…he was at least present. More than my father ever was, though clearly neither of them were what you’d call any kind of role model.”
“You still turned out well. I’m glad you’re helping him anyway. That’s admirable.”
“It’s out of necessity. He needs more care. That’s inevitable. My mom can’t afford any kind of facility for him though, so she needs the money from his house to do that. Like I said, I’m doing this for her. Only her. I’m no hero.”
It was the second time he’d said those words to me, about not being a hero. I assumed he was being general about it, but I mulled over his words nonetheless. Most people weren’t heroes, not in the way I imagined. I expected you’d have to save a life or something big to earn that label. I wasn’t a hero at all either. “You know what we need?” I had to change the subject. I could tell that talking about his family really bothered him. “Peanut butter pie. We can take it back to my place and we can just chill. Maybe watch a movie or whatever? We can relax.”
His lips curled. “That sounds perfect.”
We grabbed the dessert and headed back to my apartment. As I unlocked the door and pushed it open, I was fairly sure I heard someone call my name from around the corner.
“Did you hear that?” I turned my head to scan the parking spaces out front, but didn’t see anything through the darkness.
“What?”
“Carry in the pie. We can eat it in the living room. Give me just a second, I think one of my neighbors…”
“Psssst. Lexi. Come here.”
Through the dim outdoor light, I could see my brother’s face partially hidden by the side of the building. Was he purposefully trying to hide?
Luke carried in the dessert, oblivious to what was happening.
“Cade, what are you doing out here?” I stepped around the corner.
“Shhh, I don’t want him to hear me.”
“Who? Luke?”
“Shhh! Take this. Don’t look inside. Please. Just hide it somewhere until I can come back for it,” he urged. He shoved a black nylon bag the size of a shoebox into my hands. “Don’t look in it. Just hide it.”
“No, this feels like a trap. What are you up to? I want no part of this.” I held the bag out to him, but he refused to take it.
“This is the last thing I’ll ever ask of you. I swear.” He looked serious as he said it.
“Cade, I can’t. What is it? Drugs? I could get fired for something like that. I won’t do it.”
“My life depends on it, Lex. Trust me. Hide it and tell no one. No one. You understand? You have to do this for me. It’s my only option. Don’t let me down, Lex. This is it. That bag is the only thing that can save me, do you understand? The only thing. Hide it well.”
Before I could respond, he darted off behind the bushes around the side of the building.
“Are you okay, Lexi? What are you still doing out here?” Luke’s voice was jovial and calm – far from the serious urgent tone of my brother. “What is that, a bag?” He motioned toward the black nylon sack still in my hands.
“Oh, uh, yeah, one of my neighbors…they borrowed something, uh, a hairdryer, and they just wanted to get it back to me…” The lie came out of my mouth before I had time to process it. Why did I just make that up? I felt like I should tell Luke what happened – though perhaps I should look in the bag first before saying anything
in case it was really bad. What if it really was drugs? I could never tell him what I’d just done. Not that I did anything. Cade didn’t even give me a choice.
My life depends on it. No one can know.
Was that true? Was it really that serious, or was my brother just feeling some psychotic drug-induced paranoia?
“Come inside. It’s getting cold out here.” Luke’s words broke up my thoughts.
“Yeah, right. I just…I’m going to just throw this back in my linen closet until the next neighbor needs to borrow it,” I mumbled, hoping he wouldn’t ask any other questions. He headed to the couch while I quickly walked upstairs to my bedroom, throwing the bag under my bed.
I stood there for a moment. Could I leave it under there without knowing what it was? My brother told me not to look. His request was sincere. Maybe I was better off following his orders. I felt unsettled about the whole thing, but would it be worse if I knew what was in there? Or was I better off imagining it wasn’t so bad? A drug addict wouldn’t give someone else his drugs to hold, right? He would shove them up his nose or in his veins before that ever happened. Maybe instead it was paperwork, like a fake passport for him to leave the country or some documents or photos he wanted to use as blackmail against someone. That wasn’t totally far fetched, my brother was a criminal through and through, so I wouldn’t put any of that past him. Then again, was he even smart enough for that? Blackmail? What was I even thinking?
I couldn’t take it anymore. I had to know. I reached back under the bed, sliding the bag out. I opened it up, slid the top off a cardboard box inside, and gasped when I saw the contents.
Stacks and stacks of hundred dollar bills. There were literally thousands of dollars in the bag. Nothing else – just wrapped packs of bills. Where on earth would Cade get all this money?
“Do you need help? I can put something up on a shelf for you if you need,” Luke’s voice called out from the living room, and I knew I had to forget everything happening right now.
“Uh, no, uh, I’m just changing real quick.” I threw the wads of money back into the box, pulled the drawstring tight on the bag, and then shoved it back under my bed. I quickly pulled on some yoga pants and a sweatshirt so my story would be believable. My hands were shaking.
I rejoined Luke on the couch, studying his face as he scooped up a giant forkful of pie. He held it up to my lips, smiling, looking innocent and sweet – the exact opposite of how I felt in this moment.
“I, uh… Can I ask you a question?” I stammered.
He set the fork down and squeezed my hands. “Of course. What’s going on? You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Is everything okay?”
“I’m not good with secrets,” I began, letting out a deep breath. “In fact I hate them. In ninth grade, Olivia was in love with Bryce Powell and I was sworn to secrecy, but I knew he had a crush on her too and he asked me once if it was true and I told him everything and Olivia was so mad at me…” I shook my head, trying to gather my thoughts, but instead I kept on rambling. “And then one time in college, I was a nanny for this family at night after my shift at the bank, and their beta fish died. Their mom picked up a new one that night after the kids were sleeping and the next day the little girl knew it wasn’t the right fish, and she asked me, and I…I just couldn’t keep the lie going, and I…”
“Lexi, what’s going on?” Luke cocked his head to the side and his lips curled, as if he was amused by my nonsensical blathering. If only he knew this wasn’t a lighthearted situation.
“Have you ever had to keep a secret?”
“Yes.” He didn’t offer up any specifics.
“For someone you cared about?”
“What happened, Lexi? What aren’t you telling me?” He narrowed his eyes at me, as if he was trying to read my mind.
“Never mind. Sorry, I just…I’m not myself tonight.” My brother’s words repeated over and over through my head, and I couldn’t say it. This bag is the only thing that can save me. I hated those words as he said them, because I’d tried saving my brother for years, but I was never able to, despite my best efforts. That ate at me all the time, and I hated the way I constantly failed him. Our family used to be happy. We used to play games and laugh and be there for each other no matter what – I hated the way Cade changed all of that, and worse, I hated the way he didn’t recognize how much I wanted that back.
“Lexi, you can tell me anything,” Luke said with genuine compassion, rubbing his fingers over my wrist. “Anything.”
“I know,” I whispered. “Sorry, I think I just need to clear my head. I have a lot on my mind, and I feel overwhelmed. My brother’s back in town, and the whole thing with the breakup and seeing my ex recently, and then the bank robbery… I just have a lot in my head. It’s nothing. It’s not my secret anyway, so I guess it’s not mine to tell. I need to just let it go. Can we just watch something and pretend this conversation never happened?”
“Is that what you want?”
Yes, I want to pretend this entire night didn’t happen.
I nodded. Luke reached over to the end table and grabbed the remote for the TV, pressing the power button. Within seconds, a news reporter’s voice caught me off guard, detailing events about the latest bank robbery in Sandy Bay. The police had sketches for a couple of the suspects based on witnesses who saw some men in a nearby parking garage switching vehicles around the time of the robbery.
As the first black and white drawing flashed up on the screen, my body went completely numb.
I hated the way the sketch looked exactly like my brother.
Chapter 11
“Damn,” Luke said under his breath as the reporter continued talking, explaining that Cade, or at least the gentleman in the sketch, was currently wanted by police and anyone with knowledge as to his whereabouts was urged to contact local authorities. The second sketch looked unfamiliar to me, but I couldn’t unsee the first one. It was forever burned into my head.
“You see it too?” I frantically looked over at him, hoping he would refute it.
Instead he slowly nodded, and I hated how quickly this man next to me recognized Cade from the sketch after meeting him only once. There were enough people in this town who knew Cade for years, even though he’d been away as of late. He looked different now – skinnier, more gaunt and frail than ever before, but his eyes were exactly the same. I imagined it wouldn’t be long before he was picked up.
“Lexi, you said…you said you had a secret,” he stammered. “Do you know something about this?”
“No. Of course not. He couldn’t have done it,” I said, shaking my head. “He’s an addict. He’s made a lot of bad choices, but this? Robbing a bank? My bank? It doesn’t make sense. It doesn’t fit. He wouldn’t do that to me.” Tears slowly filled my eyes and slid down my face.
“Lexi,” he whispered softly, pulling me in. “It’s just a sketch. Maybe it’s a coincidence. It’s a hand-drawn picture for heaven’s sake. It may be nothing.” He stroked my hair, trying to soothe my nerves, but it wasn’t working.
“We both had the same thought, didn’t we? You don’t even know him, but you recognized him from that sketch. Doesn’t that mean something?”
“Not necessarily.”
“I don’t know what to do,” I replied, sobbing into his shirt. “What do I do? I need to call him.” I picked up my phone, dialing his number immediately, but of course it went straight to voicemail. “Of course, no answer.”
I texted him one simple word: Dynamite.
I explained to Luke it was an inside joke of ours, but it meant something. We always used it to alert the other one they were in trouble, like a secret codeword. Of course Cade only used it on me once, when I’d accidentally backed over a sprinkler head in the yard on my way out with friends. My dad was so pissed when he saw it, even more upset that I hadn’t stopped my car to tell him. Cade texted me the word, and I stayed at the mall for two extra hours while he repaired the sprinkler before my dad had more time to get angry.
I thought back to the first time we came up with the idea, back when we were just kids. Cade was eleven years old, and he’d left a grape soda can in my dad’s brand new Lexus. Winters up in Michigan were brutal, so of course the can froze – and exploded – all over my dad’s new car. When he noticed it the following morning, after Cade had already gotten on the middle school bus, he was ready to implode. He was so mad, cursing under his breath. Image was everything to him, and I thought he was going to murder Cade for being so careless. In an effort to diffuse the situation, I left Cade a note by the garage door opener for that afternoon that simply read, Dynamite. He’s going to blow like your grape soda all over his car. You’re in big trouble. Don’t come home for a while ‘til he cools off. Cade saw the note that afternoon, heading immediately back to school to join a study group for the rest of the evening. My mom and I were able to clean out the car that afternoon, and my dad had time to cool off before Cade came home. He was still grounded for a week and had to pour out the entire remaining case of soda – but I was certain it wasn’t nearly as bad as it would have been had Cade come straight home after school. We always promised to slip the other a note with the word dynamite on it if someone was in trouble. I’d hoped Cade still remembered it. This was so much worse than any warning I had to give him before, but I still imagined it would get my point across and he would call me as soon as he saw it.
“What if he doesn’t respond? I want to talk to him. He has to at least know they’re looking for him. Or someone just like him, I should say. I need to find him.”
“Where is he staying?”
“Nowhere nice, I’m pretty sure about that. I imagine he’s between places. Staying with ‘friends,’ if you can call them that – even though by ‘friends’ I mean drug dealers. Places I probably shouldn’t be. How am I going to find him?”
“I’ll find him for you,” he said firmly, releasing his grip on me. He brushed the hair back from my face, offering me a weak smile before standing up. “I’ll take care of it.”
The Weight of Perfection: Grand Harbor - Book Three Page 8
