Chest of Secrets

by Wendy Meadows

  “I’m meeting again with your chef. Is it all right if I go on down to the kitchen?” Allie assured her it was fine.

  Annette watched the woman turn and then asked her if her husband had left.

  “He left a couple of days ago for home. He had an emergency at work.”

  “I understand your home is in New York,” Annette said. “Have you always lived there?”

  Jane hesitated, as if wondering why the questions from someone who had rarely spoken to anyone else during her stay. “I’m from there. Logan and I have lived there since our marriage.”

  Annette started to ask something else but retreated to her usual demeanor and accepted the final printout from Allie. Jane continued to the kitchen.

  “It looks like the Clarks are wealthy people,” Annette remarked.

  “I guess so,” Allie said. “Jane decided to stay a few days longer to help organize the kitchen here. She is a designer in housewares.”

  Annette thanked Allie for a pleasant stay. She met Brenda, who came from the gathering room and thanked her as well. Brenda told her to come back any time and wished her success with her novel.

  When the door closed behind her, Allie shook her head. “Something’s strange about that woman. I don’t know what it is, but there’s something about her that is mysterious.”

  “Maybe all writers are like that,” Brenda said. “I don’t know why you keep saying that. I don’t think she is so strange, though her personality isn’t one that interacts well with other people. Perhaps that explains why she is a successful writer. She immerses her talents into her characters and narratives rather than real people.”

  Logan returned again to a secondary roadway that headed north. When nightfall approached, he searched for off-beat lodging. Mystic Inn caught his eye. It wasn’t a first-choice motel in his usual world, but his normal lifestyle didn’t apply now. The tall, lanky man behind the desk told him cash only. The twenty-something clerk had seen all kinds of people check into the seedy motel, even those who looked like they could afford better accommodations. They wanted one thing only, and there were plenty of loose women around to serve them. He took the cash and handed Logan the key to Room 23 at the back of the structure. Logan intended to give a fake name but no identification was asked for.

  The room’s only plus was the clean sheets on the bed. He threw them all the way back. There were no uninvited varmints hiding between the linens. The exposed dim light bulb in the bathroom hid its imperfections well and he kept his shoes on.

  He must look for better lodgings from here on. He also had to think about how he would safely drive into Canada at the checkpoint. He had his passport with him but worried that if the law looked for him, all borders would be on alert for Logan Clark.

  Since being on the run, nightmares had invaded his dreams. The photos and images of the bloody bodies of Bridgett and Thomas Mackey showed up during the nighttime. He was safe from that event and Hal was in prison on another charge. There was no proof he had any connections with that crime. His sole intent was to protect his friend, and he had done that.

  Chapter 8

  The Visitor

  Annette headed to Upstate New York. She picked up a newspaper at the convenience store and in her car she read the latest story that seemed to have become headlines. Word had gotten out about a mysterious metal chest found buried in the backyard of historic Sheffield Bed and Breakfast. Daughters of a slain couple in Sweetfern Harbor in 1982 came forward and identified the objects as heirlooms their parents once had in their home. The story described the gruesome murders and robbery. The objects had not surfaced, and no one knew where they were until a contractor discovered something in the ground behind the establishment. The owners became curious and dug it up. Detective Mac Rivers and his wife Brenda Sheffield Rivers then delved into the cold case that surrounded the murders.

  Two suspects had never been apprehended because of lack of evidence. Annette read her father’s name as the most prominent suspect and Logan Clark as his accomplice. Everything came back to Annette. She knew things about her father’s petty crime sprees and the attempted kidnapping of a bank teller, but she doubted he would stoop to murder.

  Annette added that to her list and pulled into the parking lot for visitors at the State Prison.

  Hal Pickard was notified he had a visitor. The guard walked with him to the room. When he saw the attractive young woman in front of him, he had never imagined such beauty. Thoughts of a younger Mattie came back to him. He didn’t have to think how his daughter’s voice sounded. They had often spoken on the phone over the years, including during his incarceration stints. He cautioned her every time not to visit him.

  “You don’t need to be associated with me other than through calls, Annette.” He always reminded her of that before the calls ended.

  Over the years, they had developed codes in their communications. Hal gave her advice on the supposed pet dog she owned, referring to it as Azul. Annette put two and two together about the intended phrasings during the second call after the murders in 1982. She knew he referred to his partner of the past. When he spoke of Azul hiding bones, she was smart enough to know that he suspected his partner of stealing the loot he’d taken from the Mackey home. The problem was she had no idea who Azul really was until she met Logan Clark. Today was the first time she had seen her father face-to-face since she was a child. His hair was cut neatly and a lot of grey strands stood out. He had a slight stoop to his shoulders. She wanted to hug him but knew that was against the rules. They sat across from one another and Hal’s broad grin wouldn’t stop.

  After a short chit-chat, she condensed her story of her recent stay at Sheffield Bed and Breakfast. “I met Logan Clark who was there with his wife,” she said.

  Hal gasped and leaned back. “Are you sure it was him?”

  “I’m sure. He is a wealthy man now, but there is more.”

  Hall hung on to her every word. The buried metal chest demanded more detail. Annette told him of the article in the recent newspaper. “You wondered who stole your valuables from the Mackey home. It was Azul, aka, Logan Clark. That’s who you’ve been referring to in our phone calls, isn’t it?” Hal nodded. “I’m sure he’s the one who buried the chest there when the property was abandoned. At first I thought he did it hoping to sell the items and that’s how he got his wealth. But if that was his motive, why did he bury it?”

  A slight smile flashed on Hal’s face. “We always had one another’s backs. Maybe he was afraid I’d get caught with the valuables and it would point to me as the murderer.” Annette didn’t want to find the real truth yet. She skipped over that possibility. Hal read her mind. “Someday you’ll know the whole truth, Annette, but it’s not necessary at this point. Just know that I stole the things from the Mackeys on a different day than their murders.”

  “I have researched quite a bit for the next book I’m writing,” Annette said. “It will be fiction but there is something in the findings you may not know about.” She paused to reflect on his facial expression. It had not changed, but his hands clasped tighter together. “Mother was in the middle of an ongoing affair with Logan Clark while you were married to her. She was with Logan when he took the pieces from your apartment. She has rattled on enough over the years against you and, listening to her, it didn’t take much to find that out. She likes to drink. In one of her stupors she admitted the affair. She beleaguered the point that she should be married to him today for his wealth.”

  This time Hal’s face changed. Anger flared in his eyes. “You know what has to be done now, don’t you?” Annette nodded her head. “Are you the author that Mattie told me is writing my life story?”

  “I’m writing a novel, but it’s not a biography about you. Your name isn’t mentioned in it anywhere, but Mother’s shows up quite often. She’s no angel and often over the years has managed to poison your name every chance she gets. I think that when it is ready for the press, my revenge against her will come to light for all to
see the true Mattie. Logan Clark will lose his status in the textile broker business.”

  “Annette, I did not kill Bridgett and Thomas Mackey.”

  She ignored the watching guards and reached for her father’s hand. “I know you didn’t, Dad.”

  It had been many years since Hal Pickard felt he had a true ally. His daughter was smart. Annette kept her life above board and wasn’t on anyone’s radar other than the reputation of being an author. He recalled his many antics with Logan Clark. He realized the man managed to stay on the outside of every crime. Hal did have to thank him for setting everything up for perfect heists, but Logan was never found to be a part of crime except in low level instances. None merited prison. He seethed when he remembered Mattie’s beauty and Logan’s good looks. His partner was as adept at keeping the affair secret as he was at evading crimes in action.

  “Annette, I want to ask one more thing of you.”

  “For you, Dad, anything.”

  “Keep in touch with your mother, though I know she is a tiresome woman. We need to get more out of her. She likes to drink. Find out all you can from her.”

  Annette promised him she would do anything, and this was no exception. It was worth it to put up with Mattie a while longer. They promised one another to continue with their codes and added a new one in place of Mattie; Sadie, who would be added as a second pet of Annette’s.

  On her way home to Pennsylvania, Annette bought a bottle of Kentucky Bourbon.

  Brenda sat down at her laptop. Something nagged at her about Logan Clark. He married into a wealthy family and from all appearances, he’d left his petty crime life behind him. She thought about Jane’s remark about not knowing her husband as well as could be expected. Logan had never been in prison, so transitioning to an upright life may not have been that hard for him. She read from his history that he was a natural when it came to expertise in textiles.

  There wasn’t much more to learn about Logan Clark. Brenda switched to Annette Pickard. Her birthplace of Scranton, Pennsylvania was mentioned. Her mother was listed as the parent and her name was Mattie Pickard. Brenda surmised that Mattie was a single mother. The early childhood of Annette was skipped over and the next item listed was when she accomplished a degree in journalism. She worked at a newspaper office for several years and then stopped everything to write novels.

  Brenda was impressed with her success. Her publisher recently announced another upcoming book about a crime in a small town. It was stated some of it was based on facts of a real-life crime, but Annette had woven the story as fictional. This novel would prove the most triumphant one yet, the article said. By now, Brenda’s interest in the novel grew. Her gut feeling told her Annette may reveal something about a cold case, but could it be the one in Sweetfern Harbor long ago? Brenda tried not to get her hopes too high. It was a long shot.

  She felt, rather than saw, Mac’s presence and turned around in time to receive a kiss from him. “What are you up to, Brenda?”

  “I hoped to find out more about Annette Pickard. I’m also more than a little curious about this book she’s been working on. I can’t wait to read it.”

  When Mac questioned her, she explained her strong feelings about Annette’s proposed fictional novel. “I think she knows something about that 1982 murder we’re working on. She did admit Hal Pickard was her father but I’m not sure she told the truth about no contact with him. She tried to convince us he was of little interest to her.”

  Mac didn’t see any connections from what his wife said. “I don’t see how her book could possibly connect with the crime. She hadn’t even been born then. What could she know that would cause her to write it down in a novel?”

  “She was raised by her single mother. Maybe she told her plenty about it.”

  “That’s possible,” Mac said. The familiar response of running his hand through his hair told her he was trying to follow her logically.

  “I told Anna to fix our dinner as a carry-out. I thought we could eat up here and then go take a look at the progress on our cottage. Most of the guests have left except for Jane. Anna and her helpers will join her in the dining room. My father will also eat here tonight.”

  “That’s a good idea, Brenda. I’m ready for some private time together.”

  Jane Clark became more concerned about her husband. She had not heard from him since the call saying he was almost home. She hesitated to call her father about the matter but was aware she couldn’t put that off much longer. He expected Logan back at work by Tuesday morning. She took a walk around the grounds to think things through. There was nothing in his demeanor to cause her to wonder about him. She recalled he clearly didn’t want her to go down to the ocean the morning he went on his own. He told her that he had to think some things out in regard to a business matter. Her father was on top of everything. She breathed a little easier knowing he must know what was going on with Logan and the problem. Maybe they are together, she thought. That did not completely waylay her concerns. It was unlike Logan not to call her daily when they were apart.

  Jane met Brenda as she went into the dining room. Brenda walked toward the kitchen to pick up the food. “Have you heard from Logan yet?” Brenda asked.

  “I’ve been thinking about him a lot. He hasn’t called me at all. I’m going to call my father after dinner. They may be together and immersed in whatever the problem was that had to be taken care of.” Her face grew taut. “It’s so unusual he hasn’t called me at all. When we are apart, he always calls daily, at least once.”

  “I’m sure you will be hearing from him soon. Let us know if there is anything we can do.”

  Jane thanked her. In the dining room, she was introduced to Brenda’s father, Tim Sheffield. She had been helping Anna organize her kitchen and had met the two servers who joined them, too. She smiled to herself when she saw the looks exchanged between Tim and Anna. The conversations flowed easily between all of them. Tim spoke of the bed and breakfast that his brother restored after purchasing it.

  “It had been abandoned for several years and was in bad shape,” Tim said. “Randolph told me that there was an enormous amount of trash on the grounds in back. It seems the young people around town took advantage and threw parties out there.”

  “And Brenda and Mac found that buried chest,” Anna said. “I don’t think anything of value was in it since she hasn’t said anything else about it.”

  “If Randolph had known it was out there, he would have dug it up,” Tim said. He laughed at the memories of his brother. “He was into collecting artifacts found here.”

  Jane repeated the brief statement her husband had made regarding an old chest buried someplace. “I have no idea where it is. I should have paid more attention. Now I’m curious about what he was talking about but he never brought it up again.”

  “Whatever he meant, it must have been important to him,” Anna said.

  “That’s why I’ve thought more about it since Brenda and Mac found this one. I never knew Logan was interested in old things at all. I wish he had been free to stick around here a few more days with me, but I’ll ask him when I get home.”

  Brenda and Mac finished their meal. They took a stroll along the waters and then found their favorite spot again in the backyard. They were both impressed with the progress on their home. Brenda couldn’t help but talk of the unsolved case. “I think Annette Pickard should be called back for more questioning,” she said.

  “What kind of questions?”

  Brenda shook her head. “I really don’t have anything specific. I wonder when that book of hers is coming out.”

  Mac laughed. “I know you are counting on that book to give us answers, Brenda, but I just don’t see it.”

  “Something tells me we’ll learn facts from it.”

  Annette Pickard was home again. So far, her mother had not called her, though this didn’t surprise Annette much. Mattie didn’t know the exact day she would return. When she did call the next morning, Annette could tell sh
e had already begun imbibing for the day. Her words slurred somewhat, but she kept the conversation together better than her daughter expected.

  “I think I’ll stop and see you later today, Annette.”

  Annette frowned. After being away for several days, Mattie couldn’t even bring herself to ask how her trip was.

  “I’m interested in hearing more about Hal,” Annette said. Mattie started to protest. “Come on over. I brought you something you’ll like.” Twenty minutes later, Mattie appeared at her door. Annette showed her the bourbon and asked her if she wanted to try it. Mattie was happy to do so.

  “I thought about the affair you and that Logan Clark had together. I don’t blame you for it, especially if your marriage wasn’t a happy one.”

  Mattie took a long drink from the cocktail glass. “Logan Clark was the most handsome man you’d ever want to meet. We were a team. I divorced your father because I thought Logan and I would get married. I helped him in a crime or two and I believed he’d be grateful.” She took another drink. “He just used me and after the last big one he just disappeared.” Mattie attempted to snap her fingers but failed.

  “What do you mean the last big one? Are you talking about the last big theft?” Annette stood to retrieve the bottle and refilled Mattie’s glass.

  “It was big all right.” The chortle that followed came from deep in her throat. “Logan was smart. I have to give him that much. Your father wasn’t so smart. He was like a puppet.” She held out her glass and Annette poured a half glass. Mattie didn’t notice the amount.

  While Mattie rambled, Annette took it all in and allowed the information to set in her mind, as if in stone.

  Chapter 9

  Truth Be Told

  Another two weeks passed, and Logan Clark was still on the run. Jane was back home and notified Brenda no one knew where he was. They had hired Private Detectives to look for him. Detective Mac Rivers continued to come up dry, as did the rest of the force.