The Naked Truth

Home > Other > The Naked Truth > Page 5
The Naked Truth Page 5

by Maggie Aldrich


  “Was…is…who knows?” Fritz continued, oblivious to the thoughts running through my head. “That’s still TBD. The FBI file lists him as ‘Presumed Dead.’ I haven’t gotten ahold of Father, but I left a message at the place he’s staying when he arrives, and I did let them know it’s urgent.

  “Listen, kid, the feds have a big ass file on your dad, and most of it is redacted. Even I can’t get past that. Well, yet anyway. I’m still working on it. But, Emily,” he sighed, and I could hear him scratching his face, “there’s a shit-ton of intel about him here. And I have a feeling I’ve only just scratched the surface.”

  ●CHAPTER 9●

  I HUNG UP WITH FRITZ and stood in a daze for what was probably only seconds, but it felt like hours. I dropped my head and closed my eyes. It was as if I had never known my father at all. The happy-go-lucky, loving, and reliable man I had grown up with was a person of interest with the FBI. Why? It made no sense. I thought back to all of the big business transactions I had known about. None stood out as dangerous or illegal. I never recalled my mom voicing any concerns about business partners or scandalous deals. I certainly hadn’t known the ins and outs of my dad’s days, but I’d never questioned him. Why would I?

  Slowly, I walked inside to tell Michael what Fritz had found. Together we stood in the kitchenette, dumbfounded. He was as confused as I was. We were still no closer to finding the person who left the note at the wedding. But knowing that the FBI had been watching my dad…well, it nearly drove me out of my mind. What had he been up to? What on earth was he involved in that garnered him a “big ass”, mostly redacted file? It drove me crazy with worry. If he were alive now, and if he knew all along that he’d been on the FBI’s radar, what were the chances of me ever seeing him again?

  I mentally kicked myself for not going over the files from his home office more carefully when he’d, well, supposedly maybe, died. Instead, everything related to his business dealings had been boxed up and given to the lawyers that handled the estate. As a kid, I had never been too familiar with that part of his life. And as an adult, why would I question him? To me, he was just an entrepreneur who dealt in profitable real estate deals. He had an office at home. It’s not like he kept it behind locked doors. I mean, some of his drawers and cabinets were locked, but I could go in whenever I wanted to. The real estate deals—or what I thought were real estate deals—required occasional travel, but it’s not like he disappeared for months at a time and altered his appearance. He didn’t live looking over his shoulder, waiting for trouble. He always made good money and we never wanted for anything, and I guess I just never questioned it. Had his property acquisitions, like the one he’d worked on in Louisiana prior to his apparent death, just been a hobby? Or simply a cover? Did he have a nefarious side to him? Had my mom known? Or had she been in the dark too? What exactly was he involved in? All the questions made my head spin.

  I was in a fog and grew increasingly irritated and confused. There was a good chance my dad had been involved in some kind of criminal activity for who knows how long. Had one of his deals led to their deaths? Was he even really dead?

  I walked to the couch and sat down, putting my head in my hands. Michael sat down next to me, wrapping his arms around me.

  “Babe,” he said, tucking my hair behind my ear, “I don’t know what to say. Frankly, I’m just blown away by this, and a little freaked out.” He laughed quietly. “Sounds like your dad was, or is, a little scarier than I ever imagined.” He rubbed my shoulders with his strong hands, kneading out the knots that had again begun to form. “I’m sorry you’ve been kept in the dark about this, but your dad must’ve had a good reason. You don’t know that your dad was doing anything criminal. An FBI watch list just means they’re keeping an eye out for him.” I rolled my head back and forth as he worked out the kinks in my neck. “Maybe he was dealing with some bad guys unknowingly. You certainly found that out in Louisiana. I’m sure he was completely innocent of any wrongdoing.”

  “You’re not on an FBI watch list if you’re completely innocent of any wrongdoing,” I said, stone-faced. “My dad must have had some secrets that he kept from us. But why?”

  Michael sighed loudly, and I looked up to see his brow creased in concern, a slight look of guilt on his face.

  “What? Is there something you need to tell me?” I asked, startled. Was Michael hiding something from me? He waited a beat without saying anything, and I could sense his discomfort.

  “Omigod, Michael. If you are about to tell me you’re on some kind of watch list, or you’ve lied to me, or kept secrets from me, I promise you I will lose it!” I couldn’t take any more bizarre revelations. This…well, this had been enough. More than enough.

  “No, no, nothing like that. I’ve always said I wouldn’t lie to you, and I haven’t. But I did leave something out. A lie of omission, I guess, not really a secret. I thought it was for the best.”

  I waited a minute, fifty thousand possibilities running through my head. Michael shifted around uncomfortably, delaying the inevitable.

  “Apparently our house was broken into during our wedding. Maria and Candy called to tell me about it that night after they got back to the house and saw the door busted open. That’s who called my cell right after we got to the cottage and scared the shit out of us.” He laughed quietly at the memory. I didn’t. My head shot up and I searched his face. I couldn’t believe he’d kept this from me.

  “Daisy?” I asked frantically, the safety of my sweet kitty being the first thing that came to mind. “Is she all right?”

  “Yes, she’s fine. And, oddly enough nothing appears to have been taken.” He shook his head. “But the place was trashed.” He turned and looked at me, rubbing my arms gently. “I’m sure it was a case of mistaken identity. We’ve only owned it for a few weeks. Most likely whoever broke in thought they were still dealing with the former owner. Maybe looking for drugs or something.”

  We’d bought a bit of a fixer-upper, knowing Michael could easily do the work, and most of our stuff was still in storage and boxes. The house looked a little rough from the outside (and inside), but I never assumed the former owners were into anything bad. Thank God no one was there besides Daisy.

  I felt numb. What else could happen this week? I stared at Michael, unable to form words. I couldn’t believe that it had happened on our wedding night.

  “I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to worry. The girls took care of it, called the police, changed the locks. Everyone’s fine. Nothing is missing. And I told the girls not to dare bother you about it.

  “We’re on our honeymoon. And the whole thing with your dad…well, the last thing I wanted to do was give you something else to worry about. I felt it was taken care of properly, and there was nothing else we could do. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you right away. I really am.”

  Oddly enough, with everything else that was going on, I felt I was becoming immune to shocking news. Knowing our house was broken into would have sent me into a panic a few weeks ago, but now, so separated from the incident both literally and figuratively, my anxiety abated quickly, and soon I hardly felt anything but concern for the girls.

  “Do Maria and Candy feel okay staying there after all of this?” I asked. “I don’t want them to feel unsafe. They’re doing us a huge favor.”

  “Yeah, I talked with them about that. They’re totally fine with it. Apparently, some hot cop showed up when they called 9-1-1 and Maria got his number. He’s promised to do extra surveillance in the neighborhood and they’re going on a double-date with him and his buddy tonight. I, uh, think it’s all working out for the best.” He smiled. “You okay?” he asked, looking at me with concern. “This has been one helluva honeymoon so far, hasn’t it?”

  I dropped my hands into my lap and turned to gaze into his eyes. This man was my husband. This gorgeous, loving man was here to help me through this. For the first time in a long time, I didn’t have to go at it alone. And I was so thankful for that. I wi
lled myself to relax.

  “Well, not all of it’s been bad,” I told him. I exhaled deeply and gave him a sly smile. I shook my head, trying to free myself of my worries and concerns—if only temporarily. Then I gently pushed him back onto the couch and kissed him until I forgot about everything else from the past few days—the note from my dad, the FBI, the burglary. Right then and there, I only allowed one thing to be on my mind.

  Later on, Michael and I got in a short, five-mile roundtrip hike up to a beautiful mountain lake where we ate a delicious lunch the resort had packed for us. We stretched out on the rocks in the sun, stared at the clear skies, and relaxed, basking in the beauty of the Rockies. We nibbled on delicious ham sandwiches, cucumber salad, and amazingly thick and gooey chocolate chip cookies the size of my hand. The exercise cleared my head, and I did my best to ignore the nagging thoughts that kept coming into my brain.

  On the trail up, we had encountered several other hikers from various parts of the country, even some students from Japan, and enjoyed our brief encounters with them. Everyone’s always happy on a gorgeous mountain hike. Funnily enough, more than halfway back down the trail, we ran into Dirk and Savannah, just making their way up.

  “Omigod, y’all, how much farther?” Savannah asked breathlessly. “I swear we’ve been walkin’ for hours.” Her Christian Louboutin boots probably weren’t the best for hiking, and she’d stripped down to a tight tank top and shorts, only to start shivering once she stopped moving. “And now I gotta pee. Is there a bathroom ‘round here?”

  Dirk was loaded up with all of their gear, his backpack bursting at the seams, Savannah’s shed clothes peeking out of every nook and cranny. He carried a large and heavy camera on a strap around his neck. Sweat dripped from his dark hairline down his cheeks.

  Once Savannah realized the closest bathroom was behind the nearest tree, she decided she didn’t need to go so badly anymore, and they kept moving. Michael did warn them that if they went all the way to the top, it might be dark by the time they made it back down. Trying to find your way down a mountain trail at night in the dark can be very hard. It’s easy to lose the path, temperatures plummet after dark, and animals come out looking for prey. I sure hoped they would heed his advice and turn around sooner rather than later. Of course, if they were stuck and needed to start a fire, they could always cut off some of Savannah’s hair to use as kindling. Her whole head was extremely flammable. I snickered at the thought. Man, I am a bad person. I am a bad, bad person.

  As we continued down the mountain, we made our way across a ridge with an incredible view of the landscape. The beauty of it compelled us to stop for a bit to take it all in. Too often I find myself hiking to a destination, my eyes set on the ground. Out here in this gorgeous landscape, I wanted to make an effort to enjoy my amazing surroundings. The mountains seemed to reach to the heavens, pine trees and golden aspen dotted the hillsides, and the peaks, barren of vegetation, were already covered in snow. A panoramic view of some of the tallest mountains in the region made for a fantastic spot for pictures and selfies.

  After drinking some water, we put our phones away and decided to keep moving. I noticed clouds beginning to roll in, and a slight chill was unexpectedly in the air. As the wind began to pick up, we again started our trek down the mountain, only to stop soon thereafter when our phones started beeping.

  “Must have cell service right here in this spot,” Michael commented. I grabbed the phone from my pocket and a text from Fritz popped up on my screen.

  Got ahold of Father. Call me.

  “Omigod, Michael!” I stammered as I read him the text, and my heart pounded against my chest. What had Fritz found out? Was my dad really alive? Or was someone playing a cruel joke on me?

  “He sent me the same thing,” Michael said, looking at his own phone. I immediately dialed Fritz, but my phone beeped again. My heart sank. No signal. We looked at each other for an instant, our eyes locking, a silent understanding passing between us. We’d have service in the trailhead parking lot, most likely. But probably not again before then. We nodded, thinking the same thing. “Let’s go!” Turning on our heels, we both dashed down the trail as if our lives depended on it.

  Reaching the parking lot in what had to be record time, I doubled over to catch my breath. “Call Fritz!” I squeaked out to Michael, who wasn’t having nearly the trouble breathing that I was.

  “Calling,” Michael said as he sprayed his head down with his water bottle before taking a drink. He looked at his phone quizzically and held it up high, walking circles in the small parking lot. Only two vehicles were left: ours, and a black truck that must have belonged to Dirk and Savannah. Most people were finished hiking and had left the trails this late in the day. “Damn!” Michael grunted, wiping his face. “No signal here either.”

  “What?” I looked down at my phone. Sure enough. No bars. Lifting my gaze to the sky, I saw dark, gray clouds rolling in. We’d probably get a signal a few miles down the road in town, but not right here with a storm coming. Thankful we were off the trail, I began to wonder about Dirk and Savannah still out there as the wind began to blow even harder.

  “Let’s roll into town and get something warm to drink,” Michael suggested. “The temp is dropping fast out here. I’m sure we’ll have cell service in town.”

  “I’m kinda worried, babe.” I looked up at the mountain that no longer looked quiet and peaceful with a storm rolling in. Instead, it looked dark and ominous, and I felt a strange sense of foreboding. “Dirk and Savannah are still on the trail. Do you think they’ll be okay?” Thunder rumbled in the distance, spurring us to head to the SUV and put our backpacks inside.

  “Well, Dirk’s backpack was big enough to house a small village. I know that much.” Michael paused and guzzled some more water. “Surely, they have some rain gear in there, and they know enough to stay away from tall trees in the lightning.”

  “I sure hope so,” I conceded. We hopped inside the SUV just as raindrops started to fall. Big, fat drops splattered heavily on the windshield, and before we knew it, it was a full-on deluge.

  “Let’s get to town,” Michael said, pulling out of the parking lot as the dirt roads quickly turned to mud. I turned back and thought about Dirk and Savannah still on the trail. Had they found shelter? Would they be okay? Would Savannah’s helmet hair even be affected by the rain? I caught a flash of color amid the trees but realized it could not have been them. There’s no way they had come down the trail as quickly as we had. They were still up there, on the mountain, exposed. I prayed that the storm would quickly pass through and they’d safely find their way back down before dark.

  ●CHAPTER 10●

  ONCE IN TOWN, WE FOUND OUR WAY to a local coffee shop and ordered some hot drinks. I got out my phone with trembling hands, temporarily forgetting about Dirk and Savannah, and frantically dialed Fritz’s number. I walked to the back of the shop, struggling to calm myself down. A knot formed in my stomach at the thought of what new information he might have to share.

  “Yeah, Emily, I got some news,” he said as his greeting.

  “What?! WHAT?!” I practically screamed. The man next to me glanced up, eyed me warily, and slowly took a few steps away.

  “Is Michael with you?”

  “Yes, of course he is.” I looked around the shop, the rain still pounding on the metal roof, and spotted Michael picking up our drinks from the barista.

  “Well, kid, I’m afraid it’s not good news.”

  My face fell. I could feel tears begin to well up in my eyes. I wanted to hang up right then and there.

  “I talked to Father.” Fritz paused, and the words I didn’t want to hear came out. “The man he saw at the wedding was not your dad.”

  I stood silent for a beat. “How do you know for sure?” I asked defiantly, rubbing my eyes. “Father had never even met my dad before the wedding.” I struggled to come up with reasons he might not be recognized. Maybe he’d been scarred from the accident or had plastic surgery s
ince then.

  “Well, for one, he was young. Father guessed mid-thirties.” Damn. Even a plastic surgeon couldn’t erase twenty-plus years. “Dark, wavy hair, a few tats.” He took a deep breath and exhaled. “This guy was certainly not your dad. And unless you have a long-lost twin brother, I’m guessing he wasn’t even a family member.”

  “No, no twin brother.” I sighed miserably and paused for a minute to compose myself. “What’s this guy’s end game? I don’t get it. Why would some random person leave me a note supposedly from my dad?”

  “Hell, maybe it is from your dad. Maybe he had someone else leave the note for him.”

  “Maybe,” I said, not convinced. I felt completely deflated. Michael walked up with a look of concern on his face, and we leaned against the bar beside us. My heart was hurting. I had been convinced my dad had left that note. Now I was doubtful just like the rest of them.

  Fritz continued. “I’m not giving up hope yet, kid. And just for shits and grins, I took that paper pulp you globbed on me at the reception and got it to a lab in Houston for testing. Personally, I think it’s not going to yield anything, but you never know.

  “I’ll keep looking into his FBI file and let you know if I get any further with it. And I’ll call you if I find out anything about the paper. See if, by some miracle, I can get a handwriting sample off it or something. Keep your chin up. We’ll figure out who’s behind this.”

  Fritz and I hung up and, once again, I filled Michael in on our conversation. He just shook his head, probably wondering in the back of his mind just what the hell he had gotten into by marrying me. Dad with an FBI file. Strangers leaving me notes at our wedding. We walked outside to the covered porch that backed up to the Big Thompson River and sat our drinks down before collapsing in the chairs. I undid my boot laces and slid my socked feet out, propping them up on Michael’s lap.

 

‹ Prev