by A. K. Smith
“Wait? He postponed it in November? Of last year?” Steve’s eyebrows arched.
“No, November the year before. It must have been right…” Kendall chose her words carefully, “before the trip.”
“Okay, so why the call now? I’m confused.”
“Because Tim postponed the trip to this May; I guess he was planning ahead. I thought maybe he talked to you, ‘cause he never said anything to me.”
Silence filled the space between them, Steve’s eyebrows bunched together. Kendall attempted a smile. “So, I’m trying to reach Ryder and persuade him to go on this trip, convince him I’m going to take him for Tim. That’s why I was looking for the dive bag,” Kendall said. “I think it’s what Tim would have wanted. I really have a feeling about this…I need to do the trip in his memory and for Ryder.”
“Really?” Steve hesitated before continuing, “Do you think that’s a good idea? I mean…” Steve stumbled over his choice of words. “What did Ryder say, have you talked to him yet?” Steve didn’t even give her a chance to respond as he continued speaking, “Are you sure you want to go, Kendall? Do you want me to go with you or take Ryder? And, where is the dive exactly? I want to know details.” Steve shook his head. “I’m not sure it’s the right thing, I mean…diving…seriously.” His tone gritty.
She stood up, sucking her cheeks in, the room becoming hot. “Well, thanks for the wine, Steve, I better get home to Harvey, he gets so anxious lately if I’m too late.” She gave him an awkward hug, ending and ignoring the conversation. A skill she had refined since Tim died. If anyone made a comment she didn’t want to hear or respond to, she would simply paste her fake smile on and change the subject. She picked up the dive bag, wondering what else of Tim’s personal effects remained in the bag, turned around, and headed for the door.
Chapter 12
After leaving the bar, she carried the dive bag up to Tim’s office over the garage and, sitting on the floor with Harvey, dumped everything out going through each item. An extra snorkel, mask, fins and gloves, miscellaneous dive gear, nothing special. His favorite dive equipment—the gear he had worn that day—were the remnants buried in his coffin. It was when she unzipped the hidden pocket under the bottom of the bag that she found his dive log.
A three-ring binder, book size, enclosed in a metal waterproof case. She remembered diving in Bonaire, how he was old-school and still logged in the hand-written notebook. He also maintained a computer log with detailed information and they had joked it was good he was transferring to the computer logbook or his dive book might weigh down the boat. Tim logged at least 600 dives since he was twelve years old. This journal looked fairly new, it had 200 pages in it and each section recorded the following:
Date, dive # or cave dive #, location, diving buddies, basic equipment info, time in and out, total dive time, water temperature and visibility, maximum and average depth, mix, air used, and a short narrative about the dive. In his neat handwriting, he included a short commentary about each dive, dive shops’ names and numbers and instructions in the event of an accident.
Kendall flipped to the last page of the dive book. Tim had started recording the beginning of the Blue Hole dive. She sucked in her breath as she read his last completed entry.
Date: November 10th, 2014, Dive # 681, Location: Blue Hole, Belize
Divers: Adam Matthews, Colton Evans, Wanderlust Divers Belize, 34 ft. center console Boston Whaler. Captain Arturo Chavez
Time Out
Total Dive Time:
Water Temp & Viz
Max and Average Depth
Tanks used
Mix
Air Used
Remarks:
Instructions ICOE—Contact Kendall Jackson 410-723-4567, tell her to take the trip with Ryder. KILY—UWMA
She couldn’t believe what she was reading. Instructions ICOE—In case of emergency.
No one had bothered to check Tim’s dive log after the accident. But there it was in Tim’s handwriting, Tell her to take the trip with Ryder???
She knew he meant the birthday trip to Puerto Morelos. Deep down inside she knew it was a message for her. KILY was how he signed any letter or card she had ever received. It was their secret language…KILY for Kendall I love you. She used to write back TILY. They had always used letters for messages to each other. Sometimes on the bottom of cards or in the return address, they would send a message; it would take each of them days to figure out the secret message. It was way before texting or LOL was even invented. It was their secret code.
UWMA was used once before by Tim, after the first night they met at Jackson’s. At the college, Kendall had received a dozen startling, unique orchids. The card had read, UWMA, your secret admirer. One of the students figured it out in a second,—it should have been a sure sign students would love texting and abbreviations in the very near years to come. UWMA stood for “Until we meet again.”
She gasped. She had to book a ticket to Phoenix, show Ryder the logbook and persuade him to take the trip to Puerto Morelos. It was what Tim wanted. Kendall hugged Harvey. “Come on, pup, we have so much to do before I leave.” Kendall threw the dive equipment back in the dive bag, and a round cylinder rolled out of the hidden pocket. Harvey sprang into action and instantly went to chase it. With one swift motion of his black paw he knocked it under the bookcase. Head down, butt up in the air in Downward Facing Dog pose, Harvey frantically tried to get the object, scratching the floor.
On her knees on the floor beside Harvey, she put her hand under the bookcase, and hit the briefcase. Oh yeah, Tim’s briefcase…She remembered it was under there, she just didn’t know how to get it out without moving all the books off the bookshelf. It hadn’t seemed like a priority.
Moving her hand behind the briefcase, she pulled out the tin canister Harvey was chasing. It resembled a mini Altoids canister, two inches by two inches. Embossed on the front of the box a small stamp, a bird or wings. She had seen it before. The canister did not open, but her memory did, as she realized where she had seen the stamp before. She was almost certain.
Chapter 13
“Kendall,” Steve turned around at the bar not able to hide his surprise, “twice in one week, I feel like a lucky guy.” He smiled, left the bar rag and walked around the bar.
He leaned in to hug her. “You know, I didn’t mean to be negative about the dive trip with Ryder, it just threw me off guard. I’ve been thinking, I’d like to go with you guys, it would be fun, the three of us. Before you say no, I could really use a break from this place and I would like to do this for Tim.” He flashed his best smile, leaning forward. “Why don’t you give me the guy’s name and I’ll call him and see if I can add another diver and help you figure it all out? I’ll take care of it. We can do this together.”
He studied her unreadable expression. For the first time since Tim died, she looked alive and healthy. Her pretty features were resurfacing in a soft, kind way, losing the lost puppy struggling in a face of hopelessness. However, something else was present, right on the surface of her emotions; something that wasn’t there the other night.
“Thanks Steve, really, thanks, I appreciate your offer, I do, but this is a trip Ryder and I need to take together. In fact, I am flying out to Scottsdale on Friday; I just need one thing from you before I leave.”
Steve sighed rubbing the back of his neck. “Sure, Kendall, anything you need, you know that…but will you just consider me going with you?”
She ignored his question. “I need the key you pulled out of Tim’s dive bag, I think I may have figured out what it goes to.”
He cleared his throat, finding it difficult to swallow. “Really? What?”
“Possibly an old briefcase of Tim’s, I found it under the bookcase in his office. It was kind of stuck under there, probably for a long time but when I finally pulled it out, I’m thinking the key fits the lock.” She shrugged her shoulders. “I might be wrong, but let me try. I’ll give it back to you, if it doesn’t work and it belo
ngs to the bar.”
She stood up, waiting for Steve to get the key. He froze, seconds seemed to float in the air. The pause unusual, even uncomfortable as he slowly took a breath and stood up, opened the lock box in his desk drawer and took the key out. Handing it to Kendall, he forced a smile, trying to calm his emotions. “Well, let me know if it fits, if not, like you said, it might go to one of the old doors down in the cellar. I haven’t even tried it yet.”
She took the key. Her eyes showed puzzlement. He knew she was wondering why the situation turned so awkward. He wanted to ask her a hundred more questions but he gritted his teeth and forced a smile.
“I better get back to the bar, let me know about Ryder or if I can do anything to help you.”
****
Kendall placed the small Altoid looking canister on the outside seam of the briefcase. Click. A portion of the seam slid back revealing a lock. The key from the dive bag slid right into the newly exposed opening and turned the inner locks on the titanium latches. Her instincts confirmed, she studied the symbol on the little box. Using Tim’s magnifying glass on the end of a letter opener he always kept on his desktop, she read the tiny initials “DNA” above the embossed pair of wings. She had no idea what they stood for but it reminded her of some official government seal.
Chapter 14
Kendall inhaled and let her breath out slowly, staring out the window of the plane. She had four hours of flying time to Phoenix and she desperately wished she grabbed the strange maps and papers out of Tim’s briefcase. She would have missed her flight if she went back for it. One of the items in the suitcase was a cylinder, with the same electronic latch opened by the small tin box. In it a very old map on unusual paper. A map of what, Kendall could not figure out. It was hand drawn, with lettering in Spanish, or at least it appeared to be Spanish. The other document in the briefcase was also a map of some kind, this one not old, resembling a computerized blueprint of a structural or industrial system. Possibly a piping layout or utilities map.
In her haste to make this trip, time was of the essence. She had so many things to do, she didn’t want to jeopardize her already shaky career. After finalizing the Commencement committee plans, contacting Scout Whitman in Mexico and arranging for her neighbor Lizzie to take care of Harvey, she accidentally left the briefcase locked in her office.
Running late for the flight, she had no choice but to leave it. She would examine the strange contents when she returned. The trip Tim wanted her to take was the priority. Now, faced with four hours of flying, she could not get the contents of the briefcase off her mind. She wished she had grabbed at least one of the documents.
Besides the map in the cylinder and the blueprint, there was a computer zip file and a leather passport case. Inside, she found a black credit card she had never seen before, a white key card, the business card of a physician from Johns Hopkins, and a government ID from the Navy. The ID was not old; it had a holograph seal on it, and a very current picture of Tim. The minute she looked at it, she knew it was recent. Tim had a small cut on his face. That cut happened on a ski trip in Breckenridge, in 2012. Tim had got caught in a white out skiing a black diamond and a tree branch cut into his face; Kendall was thrilled he missed the tree and didn’t go over the edge. She couldn’t stop wondering how Tim could still have ties to the Navy and not tell her. She felt sick to her stomach.
And there was the business card from Johns Hopkins Medical Center, a neurosurgeon. The aching pit in her stomach was new. She would have bet a million dollars with anyone Tim would never lie to her, or keep secrets. Secret life? Seriously? Could it be something classified he couldn’t tell anyone? Neurosurgery. Could he have something medically wrong in his brain?
She got out her iPad and made a list of all her questions, trying to put the confusion down on paper to help her make sense of what she had discovered.
There had to be a logical explanation. Obviously, as she had first thought, the briefcase had not been under the bookcase for any length of time. Images, ideas and thoughts raced through her mind. The unknown conjured up frightening speculation.
Fatigue took over, and her head dropped. In what felt like seconds she heard the pilot joke about the high temperature in Phoenix, laughing over the speaker, as he said, “But it’s a dry heat.” They were ready to land.
Kendall stretched, pulling her hair back into a ponytail. Ryder. She needed to focus on getting Ryder to agree to the dive trip. She had called his publicist, Courtney Clay, and cleared seven days off his calendar. She gave little explanation but firmly explained something important had come up, a private family matter associated with his father’s death, and she needed to ensure Ryder’s calendar was clear for the next seven days.
****
Flying into Phoenix, she took in the rugged, towering rocks randomly placed around the city, thrown in clumps as if an angry toddler threw rocks in different directions. A widespread abundance of freeways and houses dotted the landscape in every direction, with tiny circles and geometric shapes of blue water scattered behind the majority of buildings. Courtney confided Ryder had tickets to the Phoenix Coyotes game tonight and with the team’s winning record, she had arranged for a publicity shot at the hockey game. Ryder would be home by ten or eleven p.m. since he was going with Dr. Ian Grant from Paradise Valley and generally, they did not make it a late night without dates.
She did not care what time he arrived home. She would wait outside his house, however long it took, all night if she needed to. She decided she would attempt to explain the situation to Ryder’s mother, and see if she would help pack his clothes. She pictured the tense conversation, but she was ready. She was not leaving Scottsdale until he agreed to go with her. She wasn’t going to take no for an answer.
Tim’s ex-wife, Tricia, was usually cordial to Kendall. Their contact minimal, she didn’t have a reason not to like her. At Ryder’s middle school graduation, a birthday party, and at the last event where they all met, a night out watching the premiere of Paradise Valley, Tricia was pleasant. Her actions toward Tim on the other hand were not so civil. Perhaps it was a little show of trying to act as if she did not miss him, but somehow it did not come off right. She always ended up feeling sorry for her; she couldn’t picture the two of them together in any scenario.
Desperately hoping Tricia would understand the importance of the journey for Ryder, and help encourage him to take this trip, she debated asking Tricia about the briefcase. Keeping secrets and living a low profile was not one of Tricia’s dominant traits. She knew in her heart of hearts if Tim needed to keep something private, he would never share it with Tricia.
****
She gripped the steering wheel of the rental car. It was ten p.m. and she knew from the stats on the iPhone the game was almost over. Biting her lip, she decided she would risk talking to Tricia, before Ryder arrived home. She hated showing up unannounced.
She rang the doorbell.
The blinds on the window beside the door pushed back and she could see Tricia’s face.
“Hi Tricia, it’s me, Kendall. I’m sorry to be knocking on your door so late, it’s regarding Ryder. Can we talk?”
The sound of several locks opening made her stomach twist. Tricia stood there, no makeup, her jet black hair pulled in a ponytail, wearing a black and pink workout outfit. For a minute, she caught a glimpse of a young Tricia; perhaps one Tim met so long ago. Without all the heavy makeup piled on and false eyelashes, Tricia looked pretty. A softer and even kinder look.
“Kendall, what’s happened? Did something happen to Ryder?” Her sharp smokers’ voice spoiled the image.
“No, no, nothing happened to Ryder, I’m sorry for showing up at your house at this late hour. Nothing is wrong.”
Tricia pulled the door open and stepped back, running her fingers through her long ponytail. She looked relieved for a second. She studied Kendall and then a hardness passed over her face, her mouth set in a straight line. “What’s going on?”
“I
need to talk to you about something. It’s important. I wouldn’t have come here if it wasn’t. I just…Ryder won’t return my calls. I have emailed him, sent messages on Facebook, texted him, and now I’m here to explain to him in person why I so desperately need to talk to him.” She knew she was rambling and for the first time questioned her snap decision, flying out here and putting all the plans in motion for the trip.
Tricia’s eyes showed confusion, but her botoxed brow was smooth. “This couldn’t wait? It’s late.”
Exhaustion threatened to overwhelm her. She lifted her chin. “It can’t. I’m sorry. Can we sit down for a minute? We can sit outside, if you’d like, I just want to explain to you why this is so important. Why I flew all the way from Maryland to talk to Ryder tonight.”
Tricia stepped back and Kendall moved past her through the doorway. She had never been inside the home Tricia and Ryder had once shared with Tim. He had paid it off in the divorce, with explicit directions when Ryder turned thirty or if Tricia was going to sell it before then, it became the property of Ryder Jackson. He wanted stability in Ryder’s life.
Inside the foyer gigantic modern glass pots filled with a mix of curly sticks loomed to the ceiling. A large mirror rested up against the wall.
She remembered an old photo of Tim with Ryder. Ryder must have been six or seven; they were standing in front of a beautiful rock fireplace with an animal rug on the wood floor, possibly a cowhide, and a portrait of a cowboy in a blue denim shirt hanging on the wall to their left. To Kendall it epitomized the essence of the Southwest; she used this memory every time she thought of Ryder, Tricia, and Tim living in this house. Obviously, the house was stripped of everything Western and warm. The painting was nowhere to be seen.
Tricia led her to an ultra-modern kitchen, with black granite countertops and wood cabinets. She pointed to the chair by the table, and Kendall sat. “Would you like a cup of coffee or water or something?”