Remembering Everly (Lost & Found #2)

by J. L. Berg

  “I’ve never seen these before,” I said, still staring down at the ghostly white figure that appeared in nearly every single frame.

  “But they’re of you,” August said, bending down to take another look.

  I appeared to be bent over the rails of the deck, peering out at the bright blue ocean. It was something I’d done a lot in the later years, when there hadn’t been much communication between August and me.

  “You must have taken them when I wasn’t looking,” I said, remembering how many hours I would spend out there, with the wind whipping around my face, wishing he would join me—wrap his arms around me and carry me back inside the house.

  But he never came. I’d always assumed he didn’t care.

  I never knew he was right there, wishing for me as well.

  What a messed up life we’d lead.

  Now was our chance to fix it.

  I don’t know how many more canisters of film we found that August had shot of me during our estrangement, when we were basically strangers living in the same house. It made me realize how precious love was—how much it needed to be nurtured.

  Without communication, without trust, we were nothing.

  “Holy shit, I think I found something,” August nearly shouted, grabbing my hand and tugging me to see what he’d unveiled. Rather than scenic landscapes or cheesy photos of us from across the years, I found myself looking at documents. Tons and tons of documents.

  “What is this?” I asked, using the magnifying mirror. August was next to me doing the same thing, his eyes narrowed as he tried to read the small print.

  “It looks like records of shell companies. The notes I made in the margins…I think I may have actually driven to this one,” he said, pointing to the document he’d been reading. I moved over to it and saw what he was pointing at, recognizing his chicken scratch handwriting.

  “We need to develop this,” I said, feeling the excitement welling up inside me.

  It wasn’t nearly as exciting as our last session in the darkroom—and there was definitely more clothing involved, but over the next few hours, we produced enough solid evidence to bring to an investigator and finally…finally, I felt like we might see a future without Trent.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  August

  Everything was running smoothly—perfectly, I’d even venture to say.

  Well, almost perfectly.

  The frequency of my random flashbacks had dropped significantly, calming Everly’s nerves—and mine, too, if I were being honest. As nice as it was to regain a memory of my childhood or an anniversary we’d celebrated, the blackouts were hard on my body. Never knowing exactly when or where they were going to strike made life slightly daunting.

  We’d collected the once hidden evidence, and I’d even picked up my camera again—snapping photos of Everly whenever I could. She was my muse once more, and I never wanted to forget that.

  It seemed like life was going our way. Except for Trent. The bastard.

  I was still getting very little leeway from Trent at work. His fingers were still tightly wound around every aspect of the company. Even with him giddy as a schoolboy on game day over the deal I was working with the Yorke family, I couldn’t get him to loosen up on account passwords or any secret drives. So much was still a mystery and it was driving me insane.

  He was like Fort Knox and I was the Redcoats, desperate to get inside.

  I knew he would slip up eventually. He had to. I hadn’t managed to gather all that data over the years because he was seamless. He had his faults. I just hadn’t learned them yet.

  But as time went on, I found myself anxious and eager to wrap everything up in a nice neat bow.

  I wanted Trent behind bars so I could finally move on with my life. I’d spent too long pushing my fate away in order to bend to this man’s will. It was time he learned what it felt like to pay for his sins.

  We finally had mostly everything we needed. The canister of film I’d found thanks to Everly’s genius mind had proven a priceless asset to our goal.

  I’d assumed that alone would be enough to put him away for years.

  Everly and I had happily marched into the local FBI office, presenting our information, and naïvely thought any investigation they might undertake would all be wrapped up by that evening.

  But nothing was ever that easy, and if we truly wanted him gone, sacrifices would eventually need to be made.

  The FBI was definitely interested in what I had collected, and had actually been alerted to Trent’s activities earlier, but like me, they’d had problems placing solid blame. What I gave them absolutely pointed the arrow directly at my former friend; however, after hearing how our little operation worked, they were out for blood.

  “We want him to serve time. Lots of it. These people he’s used—taken from—they deserve the swiftest form of the law. But right now, with evidence that’s years old and the only eyewitness someone whose memory is well, less than ideal, our case is weak. We want to be able to show beyond a shadow of a doubt that this man is guilty, so that no judge or jury has any choice but to put him away.”

  “What do you want me to do?” I asked, more than welcome to offer any assistance I could to make that happen. I’d seen firsthand the people he’d used for his own personal benefit, including Sarah and Everly. I would do whatever was necessary to make sure he spent every remaining day of his pathetic life rotting away in prison.

  “Would you be willing to wear a wire?”

  Everly’s eyes met mine and I could see the fright—the fear. But she knew as well as I did. We needed to do whatever it took.

  “Yes,” I answered.

  “This could be dangerous,” the investigator warned, his hard face taking on a touch of warmth as he spoke.

  “I understand.”

  “Good,” he responded, rising from his seat behind his desk. “There’s just one more thing.”

  Everly grabbed my hand tightly, anticipating the worst. I gave her a quick squeeze in response.

  “We know you were blind to this from the beginning. I can see your imprint in the legitimate side of the business. I want you to know we are not pursuing you in this case, however—”

  My heart skipped a beat as I waited for him to continue.

  “Everything you own is ill-gotten. It can be traced back to this company and the fraud Trent Lyons has conducted.”

  “What are you trying to say?” I asked, wishing he would stop pussyfooting around the issue and just say it.

  “When this hits the press—you’ll be thrown to the wolves,” he said, sadness filling his eyes. “Those families who lost everything—”

  Holding my hand up, I stopped him mid-sentence. I understood what he was saying right away. Every penny I had in my bank account was wrong and evil, and suddenly having it felt dirty.

  I didn’t care about the papers or what people said. But I did care about the people Trent had taken advantage of. When this came out, some of them would be destitute. Businesses would be shut down, houses would be foreclosed on. It would ruin lives.

  I couldn’t go on living in a palace when others were suffering.

  It all had to go.

  “Can you be sure Trent will go to jail?” I asked, my gaze pointed at the agent.

  “Yes,” the agent said without pause. “As long as we can get him on record, like we discussed.”

  Giving Everly a quick glance, I nodded. “I’ll donate every damn dime this second if you can keep that promise.”

  A sharp approval from the agent and several bank calls later and we were set.

  I was officially poor, and I’d never felt better.

  * * *

  This is never going to work, I thought to myself as I stepped into the office the next day.

  Underneath my dress shirt, beneath my expensive suit jacket, were tiny wires stretched across my broad chest. I was now broadcasting live.

  Agent Martin, the man assigned to our case, had decided this should b
e our first approach—cornering him at work. I’d tried to explain to him exactly why this would fail, but with the government, even a branch like the FBI, every investigation had to be thorough

  So here I was at the office, wired and ready to make waves, as Agent Martin put it. As I logged into my computer, preparing exactly how I would approach Trent that morning, I shook my head. This was ridiculous. I’d been riding Trent hard for weeks now, trying to get him to soften up, and I’d barely made a dent. Now this Martin guy expected me to produce miracles in a matter of hours, just because I was wearing a wire.

  If there was one thing I’d learned about Trent, it was how methodical he was. In the office, he was rigid and safe, never saying more than he had to and always playing a role.

  It was when he was outside these walls that he slipped, and that’s when I needed to catch him.

  But for now, I’d do as I was told, because it wasn’t my ass on the line.

  And I definitely wanted to keep it that way.

  Not wanting to appear overeager, I took my time that morning. I started up a conversation with Cheryl about her grandkids, knowing it would take at least a half hour to get away. I made myself a cup of coffee, then a second. I fucked around on my computer, purposely prolonging the moment when I would go speak to Trent.

  Maybe I was prolonging the inevitable.

  Maybe I knew something would go wrong.

  Whatever the reason, it was nearly noon before I took that fateful walk over to Trent’s office. Each step closer, I tried to remember how many times I’d walked this path over the last year. How many times my feet had taken this exact same route, wondering if I’d ever find a different one.

  Some might say I was a pushover when it came to Trent. Some might say I could have fought back, battled him for control.

  All of these things are true.

  But when something more precious than your life hangs in the balance, you find yourself being overly cautious, maybe to the point of extremes. And that’s exactly what I’d done. From the moment I’d met Everly, I’d wanted to take care of her—to give her the life she’d never been given.

  It was a noble concept, wanting to give someone you love everything. But love wasn’t material. It wasn’t something you could grasp or hold between your fingers. It was felt, in the quiet moments when I held her, or the way I made her laugh in bed. It was the whispered moans as we made love…the contented sigh she made when we kissed. Those moments couldn’t be bought, and somewhere along the way I’d lost sight of that.

  In my own way, by donating the money, I was protecting her once again.

  From myself. Never again would I become the man she’d hated.

  Never again would I become the man she’d feared.

  We might never have an ocean view again or a kitchen quite as grand for Everly to cook in, but we’d make do. As long as we had each other, we’d make do.

  Trent’s secretary was missing when I arrived, and the door to his office was firmly shut.

  Knowing I’d already wasted enough time, I knocked once and pushed my way through, hoping to catch him in the act of something…anything…that would end this cat-and-mouse game. But luck was not on my side, and as I waltzed in, cool-headed Trent just smiled up from his screen and greeted me.

  “What’s up?” he asked, leaning back casually in his chair.

  “Just checking in,” I said, suddenly realizing in all our preparations I hadn’t come up with any reason to be here.

  “Aren’t you the dutiful employee,” he said, punctuating each word.

  “Partner,” I corrected, feeling my fingers curl inward as I fought the urge to retaliate.

  “Right, right.” He just smiled again. “It’s just that you’re so helpful all of a sudden. Always willing to lend a hand. Kind of like a dog. Obedient, you know?”

  Something was wrong.

  He was pushing just a bit too hard.

  “I told you,” I replied, keeping my expression neutral. “I don’t want to fight anymore. I have more important things to focus on now.”

  “Everly.” He nodded. “Everything always revolves around Everly.”

  He said this almost like a question, and even repeated it to himself under his breath as I watched him rise from his seat and begin to pace.

  “It does make me wonder. If you and Everly are back together, how did you manage to grab the Yorke account so easily?” he asked, his gaze turning cold. “I thought you and Magnolia were quite the pair for a while. Wasn’t she a little put out to discover she’d been replaced?”

  “The deal was with her father,” I pointed out.

  “And he didn’t mind you screwing over his daughter?”

  “He knew we could make him money. It’s all he cared about. I did my job.” My jaw was clenched and nearly every word came out at a lower pitch as my voice began to resemble the sound of churned-up gravel.

  “Now why do I think you’re lying?” he asked, suddenly in my face. His usual cool and collected exterior had slipped, revealing an edge of panic I didn’t recognize.

  “Why would I lie?” I asked, trying to stay calm. The wires against my chest felt heavy and large as he stepped into my personal space.

  “Why wouldn’t you?” he shouted, shoving me to the wall. “You’ve been a pain in my ass since we started this business. If I find out you fucked up this deal, August, I will—”

  “What? You’ll what?” I asked, baiting him, begging him to say more.

  His hold on me loosened and I watched him transform. His eyes went dull—lifeless—as his demented smile slid back into place.

  “Nothing. Nothing,” he replied, brushing my jacket with his hand and straightening my tie. “Just get it done. No more delays. Get him in here to sign the paperwork. Close the deal.”

  “Fine,” I answered, turning toward the door.

  “And August?” he called as I was about to be free.

  “Yeah?”

  “Don’t disappoint me.”

  I nodded, hearing the silent threat loud and clear.

  Unfortunately, silence was not admissible in a court of law. So far, we had nothing.

  * * *

  “Trent is on to us,” I said as my pacing commenced. Back and forth through the living room I went, holding my cell phone while I spoke to Agent Martin on the other line.

  “I think if you just give us a few more days,” he began, although his voice resonated with doubt.

  “No,” I said swiftly. “You heard him today. He’s holding back. We need to do something bigger. Something drastic.”

  I heard a sharp intake of breath and I turned in time to see Everly enter the room, her car keys still dangling from her hand.

  “What do you suggest?” Agent Martin asked.

  “Let me get back to you.”

  I didn’t give him a chance to respond before I ended the call, dropping the phone on the couch as my gaze narrowed in on Everly.

  “What are you going to do?” she asked timidly.

  “I don’t know, but I’m sick of waiting. He’s like a loaded weapon, ready to explode. I saw it in his eyes today. We need to act. I can’t stand the idea of him being in the same airspace as you, let alone the same city. I want him gone.”

  Her keys dropped to the floor with a thunk as she ran for me. My arms enveloped her as her legs wrapped around my torso in a tight grasp, the sound of her sobs making my heart ache.

  “Shh,” I soothed. “It’s going to be okay.”

  “Everything is changing so fast,” she cried. “What if something goes wrong, August?”

  “Then we’ll deal with it,” I said. “Just like we’ve dealt with every other obstacle that’s come our way.” Tilting her chin upward, I stared into those beautiful blue eyes I’d fallen in love with so long ago. “Look at everything we’ve overcome—everything we’ve managed to face together. Don’t doubt what we can accomplish now.”

  “I won’t, I promise.”

  Carefully carrying her upstairs, we spen
t the rest of the night exploring each other slowly. Each kiss lingered. Every touch brought passion in its wake.

  “I love you,” I whispered as our bodies moved together over and over under the moonlight.

  “I love you,” she echoed as the waves crashed below.

  Love was precious. We knew this more than most, having lost each other more than once over the years. But it remembered.

  Love always remembered.

  Later, after we’d showered our sweat-slicked skin and I’d washed her hair, we eased back into bed, tired and content from our time together. It was late, the slivered moon high in the sky, as I wrapped the blankets around our naked bodies.

  “I’m going to decline my acceptance to culinary school,” Everly said, her voice cutting through the happy silence like a jagged steak knife.

  I froze, turning toward her in the darkness. Her eyes caught the faint light above, reflecting sadness and remorse.

  “Why?” I asked, confused.

  “There’s too much going on,” she said quietly. “I would have to start in two weeks, and—”

  “And what?”

  “I don’t think we can afford it,” she admitted sheepishly.

  The statement hit me hard, like a punch to the stomach. She was right. Besides this house, which was only ours at the moment to keep up appearances for the sake of the case, we were downright poor.

  I didn’t have a single cent to my name.

  Before I knew what to do, I was laughing.

  Doubled over, rolling on the floor.

  “Do you seriously think this is funny?” Everly asked, her expression contorted in complete bafflement as she flicked the night table lamp on to get a better look at me.

  Grasping my sides, I tried to contain myself.

  “No, I’m sorry. I don’t think you quitting school is funny. In fact, I think it’s the opposite. And it’s not happening. However, the fact that I am broke—the former Mr. Moneybags himself? Yeah, I find that kind of humorous. Don’t you?”

  I watched her process what I’d said, and suddenly her eyes went round and laughter burst from her mouth.

  “Can you imagine what the old you would have done? All of those watches?”