The Heist

by Theresa Sederholt

  “Don’t forget the most important thing we took was the two black pouches of diamonds. I always wondered if Peter knew that they were being delivered the night before. Maybe that’s why he insisted we needed to pull it off that morning.”

  “I think you’re giving him way too much credit. I always thought he was just one lucky bastard.”

  “Do you ever wonder how much the jewels are worth today?”

  I dig around in the cooler and pull out the last beer. “I looked it up once on the internet. In today’s world, sixty million from 1996 would now be worth a hundred million. Although, we wouldn’t have gotten that much from the fence. You know even if we find the stuff, we wouldn’t get that much.”

  “Let’s face it, Mitch, even if you find the jewels, we wouldn’t know what to do with them. That was Peter’s department, not ours. That was our set up from day one: you got the house listings, I was the repair man, and Peter would sell whatever we were able to lift from each house. Hell, you got your real estate license so you could sell houses when you were off from school. It was the perfect gig until Peter went missing.”

  “I know we stopped lifting stuff from houses because Peter was gone and we didn’t know what to do with it, but maybe now we could figure out what to do with them. First and foremost—we need to find them. After that, we can figure out the rest. We watched Peter do it for years, surely we learned something from him.” I look at my watch and realize in a few minutes my daughter will be calling. It’s our weekly call and all I have left since the divorce. “I’ve got to go; I’ll talk to you later.” I toss my empty can into the trash and head into my house.

  Amelia

  I spent my first night as a widow pacing the floors, trying to figure out my next move. Peter bought this house as a wedding present for me in 1999. How ironic that it’s twenty years to the day and now I need to figure out what to do with it. I’ve spent some time looking the house up on a few of the internet home sites. My house is worth more since it’s a corner semi-attached home. It has a one car garage and an illegal one-bedroom basement apartment. The rent from that apartment has helped me to pay the mortgage. Sadly, if I decide to sell it, I can’t use that as a selling point.

  I could talk to Mitch about the house tonight when we go for drinks. He has been in real estate for years, that’s how Peter bought this house. He got it on a foreclosure, and it was a total gut job. Mitch, Doug, and Peter did all the work themselves. Hopefully that doesn’t cause a problem for me. I think if Emma is okay with it, I’m going to sell it. The value has at least doubled since Peter purchased it. I could go and pay cash for a small place. The question is: where do I go? I need to make sure I’m going to fit in. After all, I’ve lived in Brooklyn my entire life. I’ve only left for vacations with Emma to Disney World. I know that I need four seasons and I need to be able to get to an airport quickly in case Emma needs me. That’s really my only criteria other than wherever I go, it must be pet friendly. Where I go, Rusty goes.

  I head into the kitchen for fresh coffee, taking stock of the rooms along the way. I never really changed anything, always hoping that Peter will walk through the door. I always thought he would come home with some wild story, but I think if he ever walked through the door now, I’d probably drop dead from a heart attack, or kill him. It’s the not knowing that is the most frustrating part of all of this.

  It’s amazing how much you can get done once you have the death certificate. I went this morning and brought a copy to the insurance company, since they needed an original. I also contacted Social Security; they said I get two-hundred and fifty-five dollars to bury him. Yippie! I’m not entitled to survivor benefits until I’m able to collect Social Security. I’m only forty-two years old; by the time I’m eligible there probably won’t be any Social Security. I thought of having a little memorial service for Peter, but who would I invite? The only people left that knew him are Mitch and Doug. It’s not like they came around after he was gone. Hell, it’s like everyone fell off the face of the earth. I thought about having it for Emma’s sake, but she only has my memories that I shared with her. The more I think about it, the more I’d rather not have one. Hopefully, Emma won’t bring it up. As a parent, you not only have to think about every step you take in life, you also have to keep in mind how everything you do affects your child. I always thought adulting would get easier as Emma got older. Boy was I wrong.

  I saved up my paid time off so I could take a month off. It’s not like I didn’t know this day was coming. Hell, it’s been looming for twenty frigging years. It just feels weird not going to work. I wonder if this is what it will feel like if I retire? I need to get this bullshit out of my head. I know I have to start my life now. Emma is an adult; Peter is legally dead. I can do whatever I want to. It sounds good. If only I could just convince my heart to follow my head. The constant ringing of the phone snaps me out of my pity party. It’s my best friend Chloe Jones. She always seems to know when I need her.

  “Hey, so how was it? I’m sorry I didn’t call you yesterday, but you know my life is constant drama.”

  “Sadly, it was just like any other day, so you didn’t miss much. Oh, you’ll never guess who I ran into at the court house, Mitch Stein. What are the odds?”

  “Say what?! No way that was a coincidence. You can’t tell me you believe it was.”

  She’s really going to go off the rails when she hears this one. “Well, not only did I run into him, but he asked me out for drinks,” I inform her. She squeals and I have to pull the phone from my ear, or I’ll go deaf.

  “What did you say?”

  “He’s picking me up tonight at eight. Any advice?” I ask.

  “Yeah, don’t go. You know I don’t trust him. Where has he been all these years? Not helping out his best friend’s wife and kid, that’s for sure. Fuck it, I know you’re not going to listen to me, so make sure you wear something that shows off the girls. You know a girl has to work her assets.”

  I can always count on Chloe to keep it real. One night, many years ago, we had too much to drink and I let it slip that I always had feelings for him. At the time, she said nothing, but I’m sure she’s filed it away for a rainy day. “I’m not interested in him that way.” Lucky we’re on the phone where she can’t see me, or she would know I was lying.

  “Oh, that’s right, you have The Beaver pleaser—AKA: The Beav—to satisfy all your needs as long as your batteries don’t die!”

  “No need to worry about that anymore. I buy them by the case at Costco. I will never be left high and dry again.” She’s laughing, no doubt remembering the night I was banging on her back door because my batteries were dead, and the local corner store was closed for a funeral. “Desperate times, my friend.”

  “Call me when you get home. I won’t sleep until I know what he wants and trust me—he wants something.”

  “I have nothing, so I don’t know what he could want.”

  “The house; let’s face it, he can make a pretty penny on it. I heard through the grapevine that his business wasn’t doing so well.”

  “How do you know everything in my neighborhood when you don’t even live here?!”

  “People love to tell me their whole life story and everyone else’s. I heard that’s why his wife left him.”

  “You see, I only found that out yesterday. Why the hell didn’t you tell me?”

  “Because you don’t need to be bothered with these people. They were Peter’s friends and did nothing to help you when he vanished. You don’t need any of them sniffing around.”

  I know she’s right, but I still have to find out what he wants. “So, I gather you don’t think I should list the house with him.” She’s quiet and I wonder what wheels are spinning in her head.

  “On one side, he’s hungry and will push to get it sold no matter what. On the other hand, I don’t trust him. I’ve got to say no but go with your gut.”

  That really didn’t help me at all. “I’ll listen to what he has to say, and I�
��ll let you know. Now I’ve got to get ready. Love you, kiddo.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Call me!”

  Calls with Chloe are always fast and furious. She gets her point across and then she’s gone.

  Amelia

  At exactly eight o’clock, my bell rings. At least he didn’t just beep the car horn, expecting me to go out. I’ve got my list of questions, and I’m nervous as hell. “Punctual,” I say when I open the door.

  “Of course. I built my business on being punctual.”

  His eyes do the “I’m not looking but I really am slowly taking in every curve you’ve got to offer.” I’ve got on the standard little black dress and, taking Chloe’s advice, I made sure the focus is on my girls. The way he’s looking at them, I might get him to sell my house for free. “Where are we going?”

  “Hotel Delmano in the Williamsburg section of Brooklyn.”

  “A hotel, really? I don’t know what you’re thinking but . . .” He holds up his hand and I stop in mid complaint.

  “I’m stopping you right there. I picked it because they are known for their quiet rooms and I think that’s what we need. The last thing I want is to be in a bar, having to yell all night. We haven’t seen each other in years, so I would like to hear what you have to say.”

  Well I wasn’t expecting that. “I’m sorry. It’s just when you said hotel, I kind of freaked out.”

  “Amelia, trust me; you have nothing to worry about.”

  I hope not. I don’t think I could deal with anything else.

  It’s wasn’t that far away from my house. He quickly navigates us into the lounge area with ease. It makes me wonder how many times he’s actually been here. I decide to order white wine so I can keep my clarity. He orders a dirty martini which would put me under the table. He also orders a few appetizers without looking at the menu. Now I know he’s a regular.

  “I guess you come here often.”

  “Enough. Like I said, it’s a great place to do business. It’s quiet and they don’t let people stand around the bar. That keeps the noise level low.”

  “So, are you working me tonight?” I’m watching his body language. He adverts his eyes away from mine.

  “Amelia, we are friends; I’m not working you. I was happy I ran into you yesterday and wanted to catch up, that’s all.”

  “Mitch, that sounds all well and good, but where were you all these years?”

  The waitress interrupts us with our food and drinks. He waits for her to leave, but I can see the cogs in is head spinning. I don’t think he was prepared for my questions.

  “I was raising my daughter, creating a business, and dealing with a wife that has a gambling addiction. I’ve had a lot on my plate. Now that my daughter is away at college and my wife is now my ex, I’ve found myself with more time on my hands. You know, the road goes both ways; you could have touched base with me. If you would have, you would know what a roller coaster my life has been.”

  Well, that stings. “You’re right; I could have touched base with you, but I was working two jobs, trying to keep a roof over our heads.”

  He picks up his glass and holds it up to toast. “I guess we are both full of excuses. Here is to new beginnings.”

  We clink glasses and with my mouth being so dry, the cold wine is a welcome relief. “So, I do have some questions for you. When Peter bought the house, you and Doug did all the renovations yourself. If I decide to sell it, will I have a problem? I mean, I don’t doubt what you guys did, I just want to make sure all the permits were issued, and everything is up to code.”

  “Like with any renovation that is over twenty years old, codes have changed. However, what we did at the time was up to code, so they would be grandfathered in. As far as the permits are concerned, we had everything that was required to get the certificate of occupancy. You won’t have any problems. Are you considering selling it?”

  “I’ve been kicking that can down the road. I’m not sure what’s involved in it, or where I would go.”

  “Ahh, that’s where I come in. Have you done any updates since Peter left?”

  “You mean since he disappeared, no. I wanted to keep it the same just in case he came back.” He makes a tsking noise and shifts in his seat. Clearly, I’ve made him uncomfortable.

  “Amelia, you’ve clearly decided to move on since you’ve legally declared him deceased.”

  “I did that so I can stop living my life in a holding pattern. Legally I can’t do anything without that death certificate. His name is on everything, Mitch, including the mortgage and the deed. I had no choice but to hold on to everything. Even if I wanted to make any updates I couldn’t, since that takes money. I worked two jobs for twenty years to keep that roof over our heads. After three months, I never heard from you or Doug again—his best friends. I know you said you were dealing with your personal life and your business, but what about Doug? He was the ringleader from when you guys were in grade school. You know . . . the three musketeers,” I remind him. His eyes grow wide as he downs the rest of his martini.

  “I can’t speak for Doug, but let’s put all that behind us; I couldn’t be there then but I’m here now, and I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Okay, I’ll at least listen to what you have to tell me.” Our waitress comes by with another round of drinks and I can feel myself slowly relaxing. However, him telling me he’s not going anywhere is not sitting well with me. I know when I replay this conversation for Chloe, she will basically loose her shit.

  “I’ll pull comps on the neighborhood and all the information on your house. Then I would like to come over, go over it all with you and see what we need to do to get you the most money out of the house. Does that work for you?”

  “Yes, just give me a day’s notice. Now, tell me what Brook has been up to.” I try to divert the conversation away from me, so I’m no longer in the hot seat. Doug’s daughter Vanni is the oldest, then Emma, and then Brook. Peter wanted our children to grow up together like the guys did, but that never came to be.

  “Brook’s great! You know how crazy the last year of college can be.” His face lights up when he talks about her.

  “What will she do when she graduates?”

  “She’s into journalism. Her dream is to be an analyst for one of the cable news stations. She did an internship in her junior year and after that, she was hooked. What about Emma?” he asks with as much enthusiasm.

  “Emma will probably stay in Chicago after graduation next year. She loves it. Her major is Chemical Engineering and she is already being offered jobs from big pharma companies.”

  “Will you move to Chicago?”

  “No. Someone once told me you can’t follow your children. I really think that’s true. What if I move there and then she meets someone that lives in New Hampshire? I need to find my own happy place. And, as long as I’m near an airport, I know I can get to her if she needs me.”

  “I never thought of it that way. I don’t think I would follow my daughter. As much as I love her, I have a business here. Plus, I don’t know where she will end up. Chances are it wouldn’t be permeant. I’m too young to retire and nowadays you need millions to even do so.”

  “I’m getting ready to retire from the DMV. No, I don’t have millions, but I’ve reached the max with my pay and retirement benefits, so staying will actually make it worse for me. I can still clean office buildings at night. Eventually, I would like to expand my little side business to something that could support me. Not in New York, though; I couldn’t afford it.”

  “What kind of business?”

  “It’s an up-cycle business. I find junk, restore it and sell it. It started as a hobby. Sometimes it would help me during the lean months. The business grew so much that I turned my basement into my storage/showroom. Since I don’t have a car, I turned my garage into my workshop,” I add. His eyes grow wide as he twirls the olive in his martini. “Are you worried you have your work cut out for you?” I ask. He throws his head back and laughs. I can’t help
but laugh with him.

  “You’re good at reading me. Yeah, I’m worried. I’m sure I can handle it, though. The bigger question is—can you? If I start telling you to get rid of a lot of stuff, are you going to freak out on me?”

  “No, I’ll get a storage unit. I don’t throw away much; I would rather find a use for it. My love of up-cycling came from having nothing and trying to survive.”

  “I wish I would have had the balls to be a better friend to you. In all honesty, it was awkward. My best friend walked out the door and never came back. It almost felt like a break-up. You know the fight over who gets to keep the friends?”

  I think his remorse is real but after Chloe put her thoughts on him out in the open to me, I have doubts. “Well, let’s put the past away and focus on selling my house.”

  “Deal. Now, let’s get to know each other again. Tell me, Amelia, are you dating anyone?”

  Well if The Beav counts, then I’ve had a steady date for the past twenty years. Well, minus the night The Beav’s batteries died, but I won’t be sharing that with him. “I’ve had casual dates, however, until yesterday, I was still technically married. That really kept a lot of doors closed. Who knows what will happen now? What about you? How long have you and Becky been split up?”

  “When my daughter left, so did my wife. It was for the best. Becky got hooked on fantasy football, which wasn’t bad. But when football season was over, she discovered online poker. From there, she spiraled out of control. It was Brook that forced her to get help. I hope it sticks, but you know with any type of addiction there is always the possibility of slipping back. She put me in so much debt, I’m still trying to find my way out.” For the first time since we got here, he slumps in his chair and his voice cracks. He gets a faraway look in his eyes, like a sadness that he can’t break out of. The undercurrent of a strong wave that seems to be pulling him under.