Chasing Secrets

by Richards, Alyssa

  “Yes, I remember.” Her teeth ground against one another. Suddenly she needed to know how much monthly rent David had paid for a large box. How dare he spend their money without discussing it with her?

  After the banker handed her the box, she left her alone as before. Silence, except for her quick, angry breaths. She stared at the box, wishing it would disappear. It wasn't the monthly rent that concerned her. She was terrified what David might have hidden inside.

  She squeezed her eyes shut for a long second, conjuring strength. Opened the lid. Inside was a thick white envelope, unsealed. There was also a Star of David keychain made of iron, with a small bronze key attached. She turned the cool metal over in her hand. David had rattled on endlessly about different types of stars, their meanings and origins. But he never mentioned an extra safety deposit box or that he had hidden a key. Fury burned in her gut and its flames licked at her heart. She should have stayed away from David when she first realized she couldn’t read him.

  Maybe he did take those diamonds. She repeated his name in her mind, tried to read him for the millionth time. But all she got, all she ever got when she read David, was a blank screen. He kept her on the outside, even in death.

  She removed the key that had opened the safety deposit box in front of her and held it up to the key attached to the Star of David. They were identical in size and shape. Different in color. Could it have been a post office box key? The two keys were so similar. It had to fit yet another safety deposit box.

  She looked inside the 9x12 envelope, half expecting, half dreading that she would see jewels. Instead she found two passports and two drivers’ licenses. She put them on the table. One passport and driver’s license had David’s face, albeit with a lighter hair color and glasses. David didn't wear glasses. She squinted at the name: Richard Wilson.

  Her body went limp.

  The second passport and license had her photo but with the name Mara Wilson. Richard…Richard…she tried to read the name, but nothing came to her. She dropped her head into her hand, stared at the fake passports.

  He had pushed her for years to travel, saying they needed to see the world while they were young. But that must not have been about travel at all. He must have actually needed to escape. He would have taken his pregnant wife on the run and he obviously wasn’t planning for them to come back. She crumpled the white envelope in her fist. David must have stolen diamonds from someone after all.

  She took the key with the Star of David keychain to the banker who was still sitting at her desk outside the front door.

  “Excuse me.” Barb noticed the edge to her voice. “Can you tell me which box this key belongs to?”

  Cara examined the key. “This looks like it would fit a safety deposit box, but I don’t think this is one that belongs to our bank. Ours are all silver. Let me check the account list again to see if your husband had another box besides the two we already know about.” Her fingers flew over the keys and she scanned the large screen.

  After a long while, she shook her head. “I don’t see any other accounts listed here either for you and your husband or for your husband alone. You might try some of the other banks in town. As long as you have his will and the other certificates, they ought to give you access.” Cara tilted her head to the side and managed a weak, sympathetic smile. “Sorry. Good luck.”

  Barb caught a whiff of pity and righteousness in Cara’s sing-songy apology and half-hearted wish of luck. Anger seized her and she wanted to yell, “There was no way to know what he was up to! I tried! You think you have life all figured out, just you wait, your day will come.” Instead she snatched the keychain and shoved it into her purse.

  Once in the parking lot, she dialed her sister-in-law, Kris, who started talking from the moment she answered and before Barb could say anything.

  “I spoke to Pop, then I went out to your condo first thing this morning. Oh, honey. Bless your heart. Diamonds? That's not possible. Did you get my messages?”

  “No, I’ve been at the bank and I had my phone turned off. Thanks for going out there.” She pressed her hand against her forehead and told Kris about the passports she had found in David’s safety deposit box.

  “He was obviously planning for us to take on different identities, to leave town. Forever, I guess. And leave Pop? Leave my family? He knew I would never have wanted that. It's like I didn't even know this man.”

  “Are you sure? I mean, of course you're sure. I just can't believe—David was so good to you, he was so nice.”

  She felt the scream building again. David’s secret life, the break-ins, the man with the gun, the diamonds, fake passports. All of it was taking a toll. She was rattled.

  “Have you told Pop about the passports?” Kris asked.

  She lowered the window and drew in a deep breath of fresh air for clarity, for strength. “He’s had two heart attacks, I really don’t want to tell him something that gives him his third.”

  “He’ll be twice as upset if he hears the story from someone else. And you know he’s going to make someone at the station give him the details if you don't.”

  Kris was right. She would have to tell him.

  Computer keys clacked in the background. “There. Your condo is officially listed.”

  “Thanks.” The thought hit her. The happy home she’d thought she had with David hadn’t even been real. She never truly knew him. A flash of the hole in the firewall came back to her and she shivered. “I don't even want to go back there.”

  “I don’t blame you. Why don’t I go ahead and hire movers? We’ll put your stuff in storage and you could stay here until you find your next place.”

  “I'll take you up on the movers and the storage. But you’re almost eight months pregnant, and Stephen is on duty overseas. This guy could be watching me. I couldn't put you in danger like that. The detective suggested I get out of town for a while. You know, get off this guy's radar. I've got some vacation time saved up, so I'm thinking about it.”

  “Definitely go. I’ll watch over Pop while you’re gone.”

  “I don't know, Kris. You're supposed to be resting, right? Last thing you need right now is to care for someone else. Especially Pop, he can be a lot of work.”

  “I’m not on bed rest. Just rest. Besides, focusing on him will keep me from obsessing about what kind of mother I’m going to be. There’s no way he would tolerate anyone else, anyway. Oh, you know? I have this client who’s renting out his mountain house in Brevard. It’s not a lot of space, but it would be great for you. Very remote, it’s on a private lake, right near one of the waterfalls. He says you can actually hear the falls when the house is quiet.”

  Barbara started the car and looked around the parking lot to see if anyone was watching her. She didn’t see the man she would have recognized as her neighbor. “Alright, that sounds good.”

  “Great, I’ll let him know. There’s a management company up there that takes care of the place. Really, it’s just one woman, Lillian Grossman. She’s a talker and I think she’ll probably mother you to pieces, which in your case might not be a bad thing right now. I’ll call her and let her know that you’re coming. She also has this very small spa just off the main square in the downtown area. Maybe you could pick up a few shifts while you’re up there? That way you’re not sitting around too much.”

  Barbara slipped her sunglasses on and pulled into traffic. She definitely didn't want to sit around anymore. “Some work would be nice.” Her call waiting beeped and she glanced at the screen. It wasn’t a number she recognized so she sent it to voicemail.

  “I’ll call Lillian and rent the home under my name, so there’s no trace to you. Not that anyone would be looking at my records to find you. But still. Better safe than sorry,” Kris said.

  “By the way, I found this key in David’s safety deposit box.”

  “What kind of key?”

  “I think it fits another safety deposit box, but I don’t have any paperwork on it. Do you have any idea ho
w I would figure out which bank it belongs to?”

  “You would just have to go from bank to bank and show your I.D. and all your…certificates and things and see if David had an account there.”

  She knew Kris avoided saying death certificates and she wondered how long it would take before people stopped tiptoeing around her. She figured it might be sooner now that David’s secrets were coming to light.

  “That’s what I thought.” She checked her rearview mirror for any signs of her neighbor.

  After a long pause, Kris said, “Alright. Now, I’ve got it all under control. The repairs, everything.”

  She knew that Kris did, too. The woman could whip details into a straight line like nobody’s business. Kris and Pop were spoiling her, and had been for over a year and a half now. Her father had taken over the management of what was left of David’s business. Her sister-in-law had kept her upright emotionally with the patience and care of a saint.

  Her voicemail alert sounded and she figured it was a client trying to get an urgent appointment. “Thanks, Kris. I appreciate this more than you realize.”

  As soon as she said her good-byes with her sister-in-law, Barbara wondered if she was overreacting. Maybe it would have sent a stronger message if she stayed in town, went to work as usual. She shouldn’t be bullied out of her own hometown.

  She clicked the voicemail icon to play the message.

  “Hello, Barbara.”

  Terror shot through her every nerve ending. She could almost smell the stale cigarette breath coming through the phone.

  “I just wanted to check in to see how your search is going. I have high hopes for you, doll. You’re going to come through for me, aren’t you? You’ll make your husband’s mistakes right. Remember, I’m never far away. I’m going to keep a close eye on you.”

  She swerved off the busy road, her heart drumming so fast it was skipping beats. Her hands shook while she dug through her purse for the card that Detective Boone had given her.

  She held it up so she could see the numbers clearly, then forwarded the voicemail to the number on the card. She dialed his number and left a message telling him about the call. The white hood of her Honda gleamed bright in the sun and she realized that the guy who held her at gunpoint, whatever his name was, would know her car.

  6

  Barb downshifted her father’s old Jeep into third gear to climb the mountainside road. The car engine growled low and deep, chugged around the steep curves and gravel-covered road. The Star of David keychain she’d found in David’s safety deposit box banged against her kneecap, a nagging reminder of what she still had to figure out. Her father’s night vision binoculars slipped off of the dash and landed between the two seats where she kept her gun.

  Her father finally, reluctantly, agreed with her that she ought to get out of town for a while. But not before he insisted she take his Jeep and carry her gun and call him every day. He also held her hands and told her that he couldn’t lose her, too. He had lost his wife, and his son had been deployed to the Middle East, so she had to stay safe.

  “Use those good senses you have, sweetheart.”

  She promised she would.

  Silver guardrails were only along certain road edges that looked more like cliffs than mountain slopes. Twisted strands of metal stood testament to some kind of nasty accident. The remaining road sections had no safety rails at all.

  Even though hers was the only car on the road, she kept her speed under forty miles per hour. The more dramatic the incline, the lower the red needle dipped to the left on the speedometer. There was barely any margin on either side of the road for what few guardrails they did have. She took note of the fact that there weren’t any streetlights.

  When she arrived at the Pisgah National Forest, the ranger stopped her at the gate and checked the paperwork Kris had sent her. He looked to be in his late sixties with his white hair and mustache and rounded belly. He took a black pen from his pocket and wrote something on the front page of the stapled sheets of paper.

  She studied his brown uniform and remembered how David had told her that he left the park ranger service in New York before they had met. He had decided that there wasn’t enough money in his first career choice. So, he got into import export. That had to have been his motivation for stealing the diamonds, she decided—money.

  “These gates close at seven p.m. to the public. They won’t open again until nine the next morning. You can drive in and out with this access code I’ve written down, but I’ll warn you that the system can be unpredictable. The gates are old and sometimes they don’t work. The few folks that live back in here usually just stay in at night. Otherwise you would have to park here in the public lot and walk to your house and that’s going to be about three miles for you. Now, that’s not that far, but at night and with the wildlife we have out here, it’s not safe. Not really.”

  She thanked him for the advice and confirmed the directions to the house. Which was a good thing, because the directional app on her new phone only showed her driving along nameless roads. The cell signal dropped to one bar. She was officially off the grid.

  She didn’t at all mind that she had to be in by seven. The whole point of being up here was to lie low and be out of sight until the police caught her former neighbor. This location certainly fit. But the idea of the gate being locked behind her in a few hours left her feeling captive.

  The dirt path was narrow, only wide enough for one small car, or half of a larger one. Two of the Jeep's tires rolled through the brush. Kris had told her that there were only a handful of houses throughout the entire preserve, and that she would have to search for hers—#105 Pine Ridge Road.

  She kept the Jeep in low gear, looking through the dense, dark forest for signs of something residential—a driveway, a mailbox, a clearing. Small bits of sunlight dropped to the darkened floor like splotches of luminescent paint. The road’s curves became increasingly sharp and twisted, guiding her deep into the thick woods. There was no more than a few feet of straightaway before the road turned again. And again. She understood now why the park ranger said that the few residents who lived up here didn't leave at night.

  When she rounded the next turn, she slammed on the brakes, drew in a sharp breath. The black bear in the middle of the road stood on its hind legs and roared so loud her bones shook. Three cubs ran at the mother's feet. The bear growled again, like a scream, her mouth wide, full of teeth and rage.

  Trees hemmed Barb in on either side, so there wasn't enough room on the road to turn the Jeep around. If the bear didn’t go away, she had no choice but to hit the gas and plow forward. Fury rose inside of her like hot lava, bumped against the inside of her skull and threatened to overflow. Her hands gripped the steering wheel. She revved the engine, the only growl she had.

  They stared at each other for a long moment, then the mother bear stepped toward the Jeep. Barb opened her mouth, her teeth bared, and the long, angry scream built slowly, came from somewhere deep inside. It rattled from her soul, fueled by shattered dreams, and shook something loose from within. It was her grief, up and out, riding on her guttural cry that echoed into the forest.

  The three cubs tumbled over one another, scurrying by their mother's legs, and scampered into the woods. The mother roared again, fell to all fours and lumbered after them, never once taking her eyes off of Barb.

  When they were completely out of sight, Barb gasped for air. Then the tears fell unexpectedly. Her sobs were loud, rising from the layers of fear.

  Questions. So many—old ones, new ones, all persistent and endlessly nagging. Who was David, really? Why had he stolen diamonds? Where would he have even gotten them and where were they now? Would the police stop Elias before he found her? Would Elias go after Kris or her father? And why in the hell couldn't she read David? She grabbed a stack of fast food napkins from the passenger seat and wiped the dark streams of mascara from her face. She lowered her window by half, drew in deep inhales of fresh pine and mountain air. A
powerful rush of water in the distance, the call of a hawk from overhead. Humans were an afterthought in the preserve.

  She drove onward through the woods. Meditated on the name of the man that she thought was David’s killer, the man who threatened her. Elias, Elias, Elias… Images flashed of him driving, how angry he was that he couldn’t find her. She felt the intensity of how he searched for her.

  Half of a lone black mailbox stuck out from an overgrown bush. The number 105 was pasted across the top. She checked the address Kris had given her: 105 Pine Ridge Road. She turned from the dirt road and gunned the Jeep to climb the gravel drive, rocks grinding and popping beneath her tires.

  A man burst through the line of bushes and her heart jackknifed into her throat. She slammed on the brakes, his hands splayed on the hood of the Jeep.

  He was tall and muscular with straight dark hair visible beneath his brimmed hat. She searched the shape of his face, his head, tried to imagine what he would look like in a baseball cap and different sunglasses.

  He walked toward her driver’s side door. She put the Jeep into reverse and backed away. He stopped, laughed, and raised both hands in the air as if he surrendered. “Sorry! Sorry. I live next door, I’m Griffin.” He pointed to a house that was mostly closeted by the trees, the apex of its broad front window the only part of the house that was visible.

  Griffin…Griffin…Griffin

  She repeated his name in her mind again and again until the information got clear: Extraordinary thirst for life. Enormous heart. Was she reading him right?

  When she didn’t say anything, he put his hands in his back pockets, kept his distance. “I didn’t mean to startle you, I didn’t think anyone was staying here.”

  She slid the gun from between the seats and tucked it into her back pocket. He didn’t look like her former neighbor, but she couldn’t be completely sure.

  “Hey,” she finally said and kept her hand on the gun.

  “I’m sorry if I’m trespassing. I’ve been cutting through to catch that trail down there.” He pointed to something behind her and she didn’t turn around. “No one has been in this house for the last couple of months so I usually just make this my shortcut.”