by A. K. Smith
“I explained the situation, but I think you guys have some calls to make.” Scout’s face softened. “Is there something I can help with? I’m sorry about somebody robbing your house back home.” Kendall took a deep breath, shaking her head.
Scout grasped his hands as if holding back his urge to hug her. “Don’t worry about dinner; I’m sure you have enough on your plate to clear up this mess. I’m really sorry about everything.”
She touched his arm. “Is there a number where I can reach you in a couple hours?”
Ryder, busy on his phone, grabbed his bags and headed toward the villa. Oblivious to saying thank you or good-bye to Scout, Enrique, and Roberto. Scout watched him walk away. “How about if I call your room in two hours?”
She wondered if this would be the last time she would ever see Scout, and even in this mess of the current situation she knew she didn’t want to say goodbye, not like this. She shook Enrique’s and Roberto’s hands, saying thank you, then turned to Scout. “Okay, please call my room number 2021.”
Her stomach fluttered, she was unsure whether to hug him. She ached for him to hold her.
“Okay, 2021.” Scout nodded and smiled as he awkwardly stood next to the Jeep.
Chapter 28
Phoenix Sky Harbor International Airport Customs area. One place where Ryder’s earbuds didn’t block out the world. His electronic mask of no use here. The signs stated in five languages: no cell phones, no headphones, and no electronics. The crowded line wrapped around rows of people, a hundred bodies long, of all nationalities, ages, and races, dressed in a variety of clothes, from vacation flip-flops and beachwear to sweaters and boots.
It wasn’t a bad thing to stand still for an hour. The last twenty-four hours had been confusing and manic for Kendall, full of phone calls and conversations, which needed to be in person.
Ryder’s publicist and his mother alerted the Special Department for Missing Persons of the US embassy, a teen reality star, disappeared in Mexico. Next, somebody leaked information to the internet tabloids, and since there was no current hot topic going viral in the media, a missing pseudo celebrity made a sensational story.
The media continually warned US tourists to stay away from Mexico. Timing was perfect. With graduation approaching, journalists had a good headline to segue into the warning about students traveling to Mexico on senior week or graduation trips. Over reactive, just like Ryder’s mother. When she was unable to get in touch with Ryder on his phone, she contacted anyone who would listen about her missing son. It added fuel to the news story.
Of course, savvy reporters instantly made the connection with his father’s death in the Blue Hole in Belize, and additional meat added to the story: “Father went missing and now son is missing in Mexico.”
Not this again. Lack of sleep and worry added to the ache in her stomach as she studied Ryder flirting with the young charming blonde in front of him. Her thoughts went to last night. Steve. She couldn’t believe Steve Crawford had flown down to Mexico. Her sweet widow neighbor, Lizzie, Harvey’s dog-sitter, called Steve about the break-in. When he couldn’t reach Kendall he contacted Ryder’s mother for help. The phone call to Tricia started the whirlwind speculation something bad had happened in Mexico.
Americans missing for more than twenty-four hours—quite a big deal.
Yesterday, Steve was waiting for her in the resort office. He looked frantic, as he hugged Kendall and Ryder, and concern tarnished his playboy face. She could swear he was on the brink of tears when she walked into the office. His words haunted her thoughts. “I’ve been through this once with Tim and I wasn’t going to let it happen again. I knew you two must be diving somewhere…I should have come along.”
Tricia’s wrath overwhelmed her. Worried about the delicate balance of the relationship before the trip, their connection was nonexistent now. Steve tried to explain what little he knew about the break-in. Apparently, he couldn’t determine what theft occurred, but the drawers were emptied on the floor, broken glass and objects strewn around the house. The only forcible entry was to the upstairs office door in the garage.
Steve spent the night in the villa living room talking on the phone, helping contact all those concerned and straightening everything out with the Embassy and the resort. Throwing heavy doses of water on the fire of Ryder’s mother’s temper and sorting out the false tabloid reports with Steve, almost kept her mind off Scout. Almost. She realized after a few hours, Scout never called.
It’s better this way, I’m not ready to start a relationship with anybody anyway…especially someone who lived in Mexico. But in the midst of everything going on, disappointment and sadness clouded her mind, realizing she must be healing because she truly wanted to see Scout again.
On the plane ride home, she tried to wrap her mind around the burglary. Steve said, according to the police, the computer, the flat screens, and what appeared to be a jewelry box were still there. Could it possibly have anything to do with the briefcase? How was that even possible?
The briefcase. Something about Steve’s questions last night bothered her.
After everything calmed down, the three of them ordered dinner on the terrace of the Villa. Steve remarked about the gorgeous resort setting and looked surprised when Ryder stated his father booked the resort.
Ryder excused himself, halfway through the meal, promising he would be back in an hour. He wanted to take a walk and say goodbye to a few friends he had met earlier in the week. He assured them he would not be gone long, knowing the seriousness of what transpired with his mother. She knew tonight he would come home.
Talking outside on the terrace, the waves rolling in, Steve asked question after question about the trip. How, where, when Tim had planned this vacation for Ryder’s birthday before he died. Not being able to answer all his questions bothered her.
His inquisitiveness disturbed her. She didn’t notice how much until he brought up the key from the dive bag.
She hesitated in answering. The thought of trusting him seemed wrong. Why? Possibly his voice or body language, reflected false to her and traveled down to her gut. Acting on instinct, she lied to him, and told him she was in such a hurry when she left she never tried the key.
She slept uneasily in the 1200 thread count Egyptian cotton sheets; the jungle floor had been more comfortable. She should have been comforted but she wasn’t. Here was a trusted friend of Tim’s, his business partner, now hers, sleeping on the couch just outside her room. But she couldn’t shake her inner alarm when Steve asked about the key. Questions clouded her mind. Did Steve know about Tim’s still being in the Navy? Was he hiding the same thing? They had been partners and best friends forever.
She debated whether she should tell Ryder about his father’s briefcase. She didn’t want to keep anything from Ryder, about his father, but she wanted to understand more about what it all meant. Tim still in the military in some capacity seemed ludicrous when he never talked about his eight years of service in the Navy.
****
The Customs line creeped along in slow motion. Most people shuffled a few steps, each time gaining only an inch. She touched Ryder on the shoulder. “Thanks, Ryder, thanks for going on the trip your father wanted you to take. I’m sorry about the scare with your mother.”
Ryder was slow to answer. “I’m glad I did it, I’m not sure I understand why this trip was so important to my father, but the cenotes are incredible. I’ll never forget them.” He was speaking but not really at her. “And, I got some added publicity, being missing in Mexico…publicity never hurts.”
“I’m sorry, Ryder, I should’ve told the resort we would not be staying in our rooms for two nights…I don’t know why I didn’t think of it. I hope your mother forgives me.” She hesitated, then added, “But I’m certain of one thing, your father would be very proud of you for following through with something important to him.”
They were finally having a conversation. She continued, “Steve was so happy to see you, I hope you t
ake him up on his invitation to come out and visit, we would both like for you to come to Maryland.” She touched his shoulder again. “I know I would.” Ryder looked at her hand and didn’t move away. Kendall slowly removed her hand. Perhaps we made some progress after all.
Just before it was their turn to go through Customs, Ryder turned around and said, “I can’t shake the feeling there was something more to this trip. I mean, don’t you think there should be more to it?”
Could the vacation be as simple as Tim’s way to help them keep in touch and stay close if something happened to him? “I don’t know…” She hesitated, wishing she could confide in Ryder about the briefcase. “Maybe we will figure more out later, once we are back. I do know he loved you very much and wanted to share the world with you. Maybe this was his way.”
The moment they walked through Security, Tricia and Ryder’s publicist Courtney Clay bombarded Ryder; a few cameras flashed, and she realized they were going to make the most of this homecoming for the show. Cameras and lights were on, filming his arrival. She stopped. Ian Grant, the prominent plastic surgeon from the show, and the glamorous producer Hannah, whom she had met at the first screening of the premiere episode, rushed over to hug Ryder.
Tricia, all made up, over dressed, looking fabulous, could have been one of the plastic surgery patients from the show. Dramatically caught up in the scene, hugging Ryder and crying, she moved always facing the camera, careful not to smear her make up.
A few fellow passengers stopped walking and got caught up in the excitement, trying to figure out what celebrity was being interviewed—taking pictures with their phones anxious to Facebook the latest celebrity gossip. Two young teenagers asked for autographs and pictures with Ryder. Sporting a golden tan, and handsome as ever in his plain white T-shirt and jeans, Ryder pressed his instant-on smile, with his blue eyes twinkling.
One attractive young female passerby yelled, “I’m glad you’re not missing, Ryder!” and giggled. Ryder rewarded her with a thumbs up and an irresistible flash of white teeth.
Keeping her distance from the cameras, she analyzed the media circus, unsure of what part to play in the commotion, until Ian Grant walked over and clasped her hand. “We were all concerned for your safe return, glad you arrived safely back from Mexico, with our boy.” She smiled as Tricia glared at her.
She politely excused herself and walked over to Tricia, who ignored her. She touched her arm. “I’m sorry, Tricia, we should have notified the resort about the camping trip. I never imagined this would happen. I’m sorry I put you through any stress when everything worked out.”
Tricia’s eyes spoke the truth but she painted on a fake smile for the camera and hissed under her breath, spittle coming out of her mouth. “Yes, you should have told the resort or me you would be gone, that’s what responsible parents do. After all we have been through, I would have thought you would know how it feels to think you have lost someone. But then you’ve never been a mother, so how would you ever understand.”
From a distance, a stranger might conclude a pleasant conversation between two women, but underneath her smile, Tricia’s anger seethed, hot and vicious. She turned her back ignoring Kendall and put her arm around her son, milking the publicity of the homecoming.
Her connecting flight to Baltimore finished boarding in minutes. She wanted to hug Ryder goodbye—with this crowd it would be next to impossible. Perhaps, the moment at Customs would be enough.
Still, she tried to catch Ryder’s eye as she called his name. He glanced at her; she waved and smiled; he turned his back engulfed in the circle around him. In the thick bustling airport crowd, she never felt more alone.
Chapter 29
Her one-story white wood-framed house, came into view. Large leafy maple trees framed the driveway, and green shrubs, plants, and grass completed a pretty picture of a classic all-American home. Kendall expected vivid signs of the invasion of her sanctuary. However, as Steve pulled into the driveway, the same warm, lovely place she shared with Tim for six years greeted her in peaceful memories.
Eager to get inside, she forced herself to wait for the police before entering. In less than five minutes the local trooper SUV pulled up behind Steve.
“Mrs. Jackson, I’m Officer Heffernan, this is Officer Tosetto. Let’s do a walk-through.” The large burly men nodded to Steve. “Mr. Crawford walked through the house with us last week, but he could not determine what was missing. We are hoping you can provide some answers. I understand you were in Mexico?”
“Yes.” She hesitated and stepped through the front door.
Furniture was upside down, contents of drawers were dumped, and the glass in several picture frames were broken. Either someone was angry or was searching for something. Both the fifty-inch flat screen TV and the forty-two-inch TV were still intact in their places. Steve had an unreadable expression on his face.
She took a deep breath, and sighed lifting a broken lamp off the floor. “I feel so violated. What would kids be looking for in my house? It doesn’t make sense…” Her heart raced. “My MacBook and the flat TV monitor, both fit into any back pack…” Running her fingers through her hair, her hands were shaking. “Even my iPod is sitting on the dock on the stereo.” She walked over to the liquor cabinet, nothing was missing. “It doesn’t make sense.”
The police were taking notes. Officer Tosetto crossed his thick arms. “Most kids snatch the liquor and the electronics, unlikely it’s the neighborhood juveniles, Mrs. Jackson.” He cleared his throat. “Let’s sit down in the kitchen. We would like to ask a few more questions for the report.”
Her hand shook as she poured coffee for each of the officers.
“Do you have any enemies, anyone who would be trying to hurt you?”
“Enemies? No.” She took a few deep breaths to calm her racing thoughts.
“Before you left for your trip, did you engage in a dispute or argument with anyone?” Officer Tosetto continued. “Do you know any reason why someone would want something from your house, something in your possession?” She kept repeating “no”, “no” “no” as the officer continued. “Any issues with colleagues or students at the College?”
“Are you in a relationship with someone who may have been angry at your trip to Mexico?” Officer Heffernan finally spoke.
She raised her shoulders, shook her head and exhaled a frustrated sigh. “No, I have no idea what someone would want enough to break into my house!” She paused; she couldn’t get the briefcase out of her mind, but she knew it was locked in her office at Western Maryland College. How could anybody know about the briefcase? She wanted to tell them, but instinct silenced her. First, she needed to understand the contents of the briefcase and what they meant.
Steve was leaning against the kitchen counter, his arms folded against his chest. His eyes darted between her and the officer. A wire connected in her mind, intuition settled in the pit of her stomach almost knocking her off balance. Steve was involved. He was the only one who knew about the key.
****
Steve analyzed her, sitting at the table with her legs crossed, one leg moving in a nervous twitch, talking to the police. Her skin golden, her long hair streaked with blonde from the sun. She barely resembled the depressed, lifeless Kendall who emerged after Tim’s death. She appeared to have gained an independence, a confidence she lacked over the last eighteen months. The sadness still present in her eyes, but now worn as experience. Did she open the briefcase or not? Would she lie to the police?
He wondered, if she did have it, why she wouldn’t say anything to the police or to him on the ride over. After talking to her in Puerto Morelos and in the car ride home from the airport, he was almost certain, she had not opened the briefcase.
He searched the villa the night he stayed there and nothing was in her luggage or on her laptop. He was positive if she confided in Ryder, he would have brought it up in a conversation. He needed to know.
In the kitchen, Kendall focused on his face. In a ligh
tning-flash of a second, he recognized what he feared most. She knows…she opened the briefcase. He squirmed under the intensity of her gaze, certain she suspected him.
Chapter 30
Ten years ago, Steve realized Tim had secrets.
Unlocking the back door outside the office, he encountered a startled Tim working on a laptop with an enormous rolled out map and a blueprint of some sort. A silver briefcase open next to him. Tim rolled up the displayed materials and closed his computer in one swift motion.
Steve lifted his brows. “Why are you burning the midnight oil?”
“I didn’t realize the time. Maybe I should ask you the same? Where are you coming from at this hour, a late date?” Tim stood. The air was thick with untruthfulness.
“Couldn’t sleep, thought I’d take a ride and I saw the light on…” Steve said.
“Yeah, me too.” Tim stretched. “I’ve been here since the bar closed up.”
Tim did not elaborate. He turned off the desk light and walked over to the door. “I guess we two insomniacs need to go home.”
Tim was the brother Steve always wanted. Best friends who shared a pact. It all started one day in the Maryland woods, when they realized they were both part of a classified military reserve program called The Collective.
Could Tim be hiding information from him? Steve respected the classified research and confidential nature of The Collective, but in ten years of being involved with the program, they always worked together.
Comrades of secrets. Since their college days in Gettysburg, they shielded knowledge from everyone, except each other. Both experts at hiding the truth.
The Collective’s inside influence at Gettysburg College, aligned the two ex-military students as roommates, never revealing their secret association to the other. Both out-scored fellow elite soldiers on a battery of tests including aptitude, intellect, psychological, and physical. Both discharged from military service three months before starting their freshman year. To the rest of the world, Steve and Tim were civilians, holding normal jobs; each loyal to the oath never to reveal their classified military assignment.