Act Two

by Denise Grover Swank

  As soon as I locked the door behind him, I pulled the note out of my pocket and sat down on the overstuffed chair.

  Magnolia,

  If you found this paper, then something has happened to me. Trust no one. If you tell the wrong person, you’ll be in grave danger. This is much bigger and goes deeper than I ever suspected. Even the people I expected to protect me have let me down.

  Take care of your mother and brother. I’m sorry.

  Love,

  Dad

  Tears blurred my vision as I got to the end. This was the only proof I needed: Dad hadn’t run off, just like I’d always known; something had happened to him. But I still had no idea what that something was, let alone why he’d filled the dog with gold. Or how he’d expected me to find it. Had he left me clues that I’d missed?

  I searched the apartment, looking for somewhere to hide the bags. In the end, I hid them in multiple places. I wasn’t sure what to do with them yet, but I couldn’t risk anyone else discovering them.

  Not until I had more answers.

  It looked like I would have even more to discuss with Geraldo Lopez in the morning.

  Chapter 15

  Nashville traffic had gotten ten times worse in the years I’d been away. I’d heard Momma and Tilly complain, but this was the first time I’d driven during morning rush hour. The stop-and-go traffic gave me plenty of time to think about the note I’d found in the bottom of the ceramic dog.

  I’d stayed up half the night and cried more tears than I had thought possible. While I had more questions than answers, I took satisfaction in the knowledge that Daddy hadn’t run off with Shannon Morrissey.

  I wanted to tell someone about the note, but who? For the time being, the only thing I knew to do was keep it to myself. Even from Colt. I trusted him not to hurt me, but I wasn’t sure if he was as good at keeping other people’s secrets as he was at harboring his own. I decided to wait and see what he found out about the gold bar.

  Dr. Geraldo Lopez’s office was in a multistory office building downtown, two blocks from Daddy’s—and now Roy’s—office. After parking in a public parking garage, I headed to the building and took the elevator to the fourteenth floor, hoping something would jar loose from my memory about the day Daddy had taken me to the dentist. While I was nearly certain it was the same dentist, I was hoping for some further confirmation. Nothing was looking familiar. Not that I was surprised. Fourteen years had passed since my visit, and I hadn’t paid any attention to the décor.

  The waiting room was empty, but an ancient-looking receptionist sat behind an open glass window. Her frown added to her many wrinkles. “You were supposed to be here five minutes ago, Ms. Bartok.”

  I stared at her in confusion until I remembered that I was Ms. Bartok. “Sorry. I haven’t had enough coffee this morning.”

  “So your tooth isn’t bothered by heat?”

  “No,” I said, quickly assuming my role. “Mostly cold.”

  Her lips pursed as she handed me a clipboard. “I’ll make a note of it. Since you’re late, you’ll only have five minutes to fill out the paperwork instead of the usual fifteen.” Then she leaned forward. Up close she looked even more ancient. “If you’re not ready to go back in five minutes, it’ll throw off our entire schedule.”

  I grabbed the board and pulled it from her firm grasp. “I can write fast.” It would be just my luck if the crypt keeper stopped me from seeing Dr. Lopez.

  “Make sure it’s legible.”

  I forced a smile, then sat in a chair and wrote an M in the first name box before realizing my error. I scribbled it out and wrote Tilly Bartok. Without thinking, I put down my new address instead of the one I’d given the crypt keeper the day before. Time was running out, so I told myself that they’d never compare it, and if they did, it wouldn’t be a big deal. I skipped a big section by marking that I didn’t have dental insurance—true—then sped through the medical history form, reminding myself not to list the appendectomy I’d gotten at age eight or my sulfa drug allergy. I’d just finished signing the HIPAA forms when a woman who was only slightly less grumpy than the receptionist appeared in the doorway to the back.

  “Tilly?” she asked in a stern voice. She probably didn’t expect me to be done.

  I stood. “Yes.”

  “Follow me.”

  I handed off my paperwork and did just that. As we walked down the dark hall, it triggered a memory from fourteen years ago. Daddy had seemed anxious, and his anxiety had passed to me, making me nervous enough that I’d reached for his hand as we walked to the exam room, the last door on the right.

  The hygienist led me to the same room.

  “Have a seat in the chair.”

  I did as she requested, looking out the window at the view of the office building across the street. I remembered sitting here before, counting the windows while I waited for Daddy to finish his conversation with Geraldo Lopez.

  “Hello, Tilly,” a man said as he entered the room several seconds later. “I’m Dr. Lopez.”

  My breath stuck in my chest. He’d looked familiar in the photos, but in person, there was no denying he was an older version of the man I’d met that day.

  “I hear you’re having some tooth pain. What exactly is the problem?”

  He sounded nice enough. He definitely didn’t have the voice of a killer, but then again, I’d only known two alleged killers. The first one was that maniac from the basement, and his creepy voice was etched into my head. The second was Amy, though I still wasn’t convinced of her guilt. Then again, I had no idea if Dr. Lopez was a murderer. I only suspected him of knowing something about Daddy’s disappearance.

  On the endless drive downtown, I’d thought about how I should approach this. The smart thing to do would be to question him about his previous clients and mention my father’s name to gauge his reaction. But now that I was finally here, I wasn’t sure that would work. I decided to be more direct.

  He sat in the chair next to me and picked up a dental instrument.

  “I sat in this same chair fourteen years ago,” I said, looking up into his face.

  He frowned. “You must have been a child then. I don’t typically take young children.”

  “I was fourteen,” I said, my stomach turning somersaults. “But my appointment was a ruse . . . an excuse for my father to see you.”

  His face paled and he looked back and forth between my chart and me. I could see the wheels turning. The name was different, but he knew who I was.

  “Jackie,” he said, looking at the hygienist on the other side of the chair. “Can you excuse us for a moment?”

  “What?” she asked in surprise.

  “Just for a few minutes.” After she stood, he added, “And shut the door behind you.”

  Her forehead was furrowed, but she complied.

  As soon as the door closed, Dr. Lopez pushed his chair back several inches. “You must be Magnolia.”

  I sat up in the chair, balancing awkwardly because of the incline. “Yes.”

  He pushed out a long sigh and moved to the window. “I expected you to show up sooner. Walter told me that you’d asked to see him.”

  That caught me by surprise. “I guess I’ve been a little slow putting things together.”

  He slowly turned back around. “Who else have you told about this?”

  Trust no one.

  My father had turned to these men for help, but neither of them had protected him. Neither of them had stepped up to help find him justice.

  I stood. “I’m not sure why that matters.”

  He took a step toward me, his eyes shining with anxiety. “It’s more important than you know.” He paused. “Do you know what the police are saying about Walter’s death?”

  “They’re calling it a robbery.”

  “That’s right, but I have firsthand knowledge that he wasn’t robbed. The Franklin police are covering it up. Or someone involved with the investigation.”

  I already knew they were
part of a cover-up because of the missing cell phone and paper. I couldn’t stand thinking that Brady had something to do with it, but how well did I really know him? What about his friend Owen? I knew nothing at all about him.

  But I wasn’t going to tell Dr. Lopez any of that.

  “Why? What are they covering up?” I asked.

  “This goes deep, Magnolia. It all quieted down after your father disappeared, but after Walter . . . He was the fourth person involved in this to be murdered.”

  “What? Who else?”

  “Chris Merritt disappeared three years ago.”

  “How was he involved?”

  “What did Walter tell you?”

  “Nothing,” I said, even though I couldn’t help wondering if honesty was the wrong course. He might be more inclined to talk if he thought I knew something.

  “Walter was tired of hiding the truth. He was going to give you information.”

  Crap. The paper. “I saw a paper in his hand,” I said. “I think it listed names. Yours was at the top—that’s how I knew to come see you. I remembered visiting your office with my father that day.”

  He gave me a slight nod. “Who else?”

  “The other two were only partial names. His hand blocked the first parts. I saw a word that ended with R-R-I-T-T,” I said, spelling out the letters.

  He turned back toward the window. “Chris Merritt. And the other?”

  I struggled to control my excitement. “And O-G-E-R-S.”

  He hesitated before responding, “I have no idea who that is.”

  I wasn’t sure I believed him, but decided it would be better to see if he could give me other answers before circling back to this. “Do you think whoever killed Walter Frey knows you and Mr. Merritt were connected?”

  “Probably.” He pulled the hygienist’s chair toward the windows and motioned for me to take his previous seat.

  I placed my shaky hands on the low back of the chair, moved it next to his, and sat down.

  “People are watching,” he said, his gray eyes holding mine. “You were smart to use an assumed name to come see me.”

  “I confess that I’m a little paranoid at the moment.”

  “Good,” he said. “You should be.”

  “Do you think I’m in danger?”

  “No.” His mouth pinched and he glanced out the window. “I think you’re fine as long as you don’t talk. To anyone.”

  “I still don’t know what’s going on. Do you know what my father was involved in or what happened to him?”

  “Contrary to what Walter believed, I’m not sure telling you is in your best interest, especially since you can’t trust the police.” He paused. “I can’t stress this enough, Magnolia. You can’t trust any of them. Look at how they tried to frame you with that music agent’s murder a few weeks ago. They would have arrested you if that assistant hadn’t confessed and then killed herself.”

  “You’ve been watching me?” I asked, trying to hide my fear. Most of the story hadn’t been published in the news.

  “Since I found out you were back in town? Yes. Your father always expected you to look deeper if he disappeared. He presumed the police would cover it up. Walter and I have always expected that you’d show up asking questions one day.”

  “And you won’t tell me what it involved?”

  “I think the less you know, the better.”

  “And if I disagree?”

  A sad smile tilted the corners of his mouth. “I’m afraid I have the upper hand there.”

  I could threaten him in some way, but I had no idea how, not that I felt compelled to try.

  Not yet, anyway.

  There might be more than one way to get what I wanted. “Was my father’s boss involved?”

  “We were never sure of everyone who was involved. They said it was safer that way.”

  “And they were in charge?”

  “Yes.”

  “A person? An organization?”

  “I was never sure. I think only one person ran things, but as little as we knew, it could have run deeper.”

  “The one million dollars that was missing . . . do you know if it was cash or something else?”

  His eyes narrowed. “Like what?”

  Crap. “Something in small bags. Maybe drugs?”

  He laughed, but it sounded bitter. “It was bigger than drugs.” He stood and looked out the window again. “When you leave here, you can’t come back. You must pretend this never happened. If you tell anyone I talked to you, I’ll deny it.”

  “Daddy was scared. Why?”

  Dr. Lopez kept his back to me. “He talked.”

  “To someone he shouldn’t have?”

  He nodded, then looked back at me. “You need to go.”

  “What happened to Shannon Morrissey?”

  Worry filled his eyes. “She got too nosy. Just like you’re doing now. You need to let this go. And you have to leave. Now.”

  He’d spoken in vaguenesses, but at least he hadn’t denied everything. This was more than I’d hoped to find out. “Thanks for the warning.”

  He walked to the door, and I got up and followed him. Opening it, he said, “Ms. Bartok, if your molar pain continues from gritting your teeth in your sleep, come in to be fitted for a mouth guard. But what you really need is less stress.” He held my gaze. “Take what I’ve said to heart.”

  “Thank you, Dr. Lopez,” I said as I walked past him.

  The hygienist waited in the hall and looked irritated.

  “Jackie,” Dr. Lopez said, “Ms. Bartok’s appointment was a consultation. No charge.”

  Her irritation grew as she followed me to the front. She opened the door to the waiting room and watched me walk out of the office.

  I let out a breath as soon as I got into the elevator. Geraldo Lopez expected me to just let this go, but I needed answers. I owed that much to my dad. I just needed to change the direction of my search.

  As the elevator shot down to the garage, I checked my phone. There was a text from Colt.

  Your car’s up and running.

  Thanks. I owe you.

  One bar of gold bullion seems more than enough. ;)

  Did Colt expect to keep it? Did I have any reason not to let him?

  I found Tilly’s car in the parking garage, then called her as soon as I was coasting out of the concrete dungeon.

  “Hey, Tilly. Colt’s already got my car done, so I’m trying to figure out how to get your car back to you.”

  “Lila and I are going out. She was going to pick me up, but how about you come by here and you can take me.”

  “Sounds good.”

  I spent the next thirty minutes mulling over my next steps. I knew what I needed to do to get more information about Shannon Morrissey, but it made me feel like a first-class bitch.

  Tilly was waiting on her front porch when I pulled into her driveway, and she climbed into the passenger seat.

  “Do you want to drive?” I asked. “It is your car.”

  She waved her hand. “I like being driven around. Makes me feel like I’m being chauffeured.”

  I grinned, hiding my anxiety. Tilly lived about five minutes from Momma, which meant I didn’t have much time.

  “I can’t believe you’re already back,” she said. “That was a fast appointment.”

  “It was just a consultation.” I shot her a glance. “Tilly, I have a question—and you can’t tell Momma I asked.”

  She stiffened. “Oh, okay.”

  “I’m sorry to do this to you, but it’s important.”

  “Of course, Maggie.”

  I took a breath. What was the worst that could happen? “I need to know about Shannon Morrissey.”

  “Shannon Morrissey?” She turned in her seat to look at me. “Why on earth do you want to know more about that home-wrecker?” She actually sounded affronted. But maybe she was so used to touting the company line, she fell into it like a duck takes to water.

  “So you really think Daddy
was having an affair with her?”

  “Why else would he have run off?”

  She sounded and looked sincere enough that I might have bought it if I hadn’t heard her commiserating with my mother over my daddy’s safety months after his disappearance. But no point bringing that up now. She could try to convince me of his adultery for all I cared. In fact, I was hoping it would give me the answers I needed.

  “I know she was married to Daddy’s client, but do you know how they met?”

  “Magnolia,” she said, sounding torn, “shouldn’t you discuss this with your mother?”

  “You know she won’t talk about it. Is it wrong that I want to know more about what happened?”

  She pushed out a huge sigh and sank back in the seat. “No, of course not, sweet girl. I understand.”

  “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, but I really need some answers.”

  “I’ll tell you what I know.”

  “Thank you, Tilly.”

  She took a breath as though trying to steel herself. “You asked how they met. Well, I was there. It was at a fundraiser cocktail party for some charity your father’s company helped sponsor. Your mother and I catered the dessert.”

  “I don’t remember that.”

  “I’m sure you wouldn’t. We were known for our cheesecakes back then, and the fundraiser was small, which is probably why I saw them meet. There weren’t many other people there.”

  “She was there with her husband?”

  “Yes, but she looked irritated with him.”

  “So what happened when they met?”

  “They exchanged some small talk after they were introduced, but then they disappeared. I went to the kitchen to get something and found them huddled in a corner.”

  “Did you hear what they were talking about?”

  “No.”

  “Do you know anything about her? Her family? Did she work?”

  She laughed. “Work? She was part of Franklin’s society life.”

  I sucked in a breath. “You’re sure?”

  “Of course I’m sure.”

  “Thanks, Tilly. That really helps.”

  She paused. “Her sister never believed it either. She was the biggest thorn in the side of the Franklin police.”