Ben looked around and immediately choked up. He tried hard not to cry, but hot tears trickled down his cheeks. He didn’t bother to brush them away. He had loved living here, loved watching his grandmother make spaghetti just for him or apple tarts with lots of whipped cream. She’d joke that she had to fatten him up. She had a nice laugh. He always felt really good when she’d laugh and hug him and tell him he was her little butter muffin. He wasn’t sure he wanted to be a buttered muffin, but if that’s what his grandmother wanted him to be, then he decided that that’s what he would be.
The house smelled just like his grandmother. Like vanilla, lemon, and the purple flowers she filled the house with in the spring. He loved and adored the smell. Just loved, loved, loved it.
Where are you, Grandma? Ben walked through the rooms, checking this and that, poking at things, wondering if she had left a clue somewhere that he’d missed when he was here the last time. This time he was more careful as he made his way to his room. He stood in the doorway and looked around. He remembered the day of the “unveiling,” when his grandmother opened the door, and said, “I hope you like it, Ben. I tried to put everything in here that I thought you would like. Did I do okay?”
He’d sighed so loud and melted into her arms. “I love it,” he whispered. And he did. For the two years he’d lived with his grandmother, before sheriff’s deputies carted him off to take him to live with his stepfather, Connor Ryan, and Connor’s new wife, Natalie. He’d cried. No, he’d sobbed as if his world was ending, and in a way, it was. His heart was breaking. His grandmother had cried, too. So did Rita and Irene.
The deputies kept saying over and over that the law is the law.
Ben stepped into the room and went to the shelf where a stuffed panda bear sat guard over the room. Freddie. It was supposed to be a giant pillow that doubled as a place to put his pajamas. “A perfect hiding spot,” his grandmother had told him when she’d given it to him for his third birthday. Quick as a wink, Ben unzipped Freddie’s zipper and stuck his hand down into the deep pocket. His face lit up like a thousand Christmas lights when he found an envelope stuffed inside the bear. It was yellow, the size of a hardcover book, and it was packed solid.
Papers, all kinds of papers. He didn’t want papers, he wanted credit cards. And then he saw them, a dozen or so with a rubber band around them. Visa, MasterCard, American Express, Discover. He stuck them in his pocket. How well he remembered the day his grandmother told him she was going to retire the cards because all she needed was the black one called Centurion, but the others would still be good.
He supposed he should look at the papers. But look here or take them home to look? Maybe a cursory glance to see what they all were. He decided whatever they were about, it must be important enough for his grandmother to have hidden them in Freddie, knowing that Ben would find them sooner or later. “I should have thought of this before now, Grandma,” he sobbed, his eyes filling with tears again. “I’m sorry. How come if I’m so smart, I was stupid about this? If I hadn’t met Izzy, I might never have found them. Well, I’ve found them now,” he cried happily.
Ben jammed everything back into the yellow envelope. He didn’t have his backpack, so where was he going to stash it? “In my underwear, where else?” he mumbled as he jammed the envelope down his underpants. It crackled a bit but not so loud that anyone would pay attention. Not that Connor or Natalie ever actually paid attention to him. When he got home, he’d go in through the kitchen since that was the one place Natalie avoided like the plague. Connor wasn’t fond of the kitchen, either. He could take the back staircase up to his room, and no one would even know he was home unless he announced himself.
Since his bedroom door didn’t have a lock on it, he’d have to go into the bathroom and lock that door. He’d curl up in the bathtub and read the papers. Yep, that’s exactly what I will do.
Where are you? I need you, Grandma. I miss you.
Having arrived home and successfully made it to his bedroom without having been discovered, Ben was just about ready to lock the bathroom door when he heard a crash that sounded like thunder. Check it out or stay put? He opted to check it out. He ran out of the bathroom down the hall, then halfway down the stairs. He had a clear view of Natalie, with a broom handle in her hands, standing in the middle of the dining room, where the contents of the toppled china cabinet lay in smithereens.
“Now look what you’ve done!” Connor roared. “What the hell is wrong with you? How am I going to explain this to the estate?”
Her long red hair flying every which way, her eyes wild, Natalie brandished the broom handle as if it were a baseball bat or a hockey stick. Her next target was the Bavarian crystal chandelier hanging over the dining-room table. One swipe, two swipes, and crystal flew in all directions. “I’ll tell you what’s wrong with me. You! You’re what’s wrong with me. You and that bratty snot-nosed kid of yours. Well, I’ve had enough!”
“I’ve had enough of you, too! Pack your stuff and get out of my house. Now! And don’t ever come back here. I’m going to change the locks and file for divorce!” Connor snarled.
Ben hugged his skinny knees to his chest where he was sitting on the stairs and watching through the spindles. He felt like yelling, “Yippee!” but he didn’t. He’d witnessed this same scene so many times that it felt old hat. Natalie would calm down, Connor would clean up the mess, then he’d find money from somewhere so she could go shopping. Unless . . . unless this was the final straw, the one that broke the camel’s back.
He quickly got up and raced to his room when he saw Natalie head for the stairs. Maybe she meant it this time. “I hope, I hope, I hope,” he muttered under his breath.
Ten minutes later, he cracked the door to his room to see Natalie dragging a suitcase to the top of the steps. She gave it a shove, and it rolled down the steps to land on its wheels. To Ben’s surprise, nothing spilled out. He heard a horn blare. He ran to the window. An Uber car pulled into the driveway. A middle-aged man got out, stashed the suitcase in the trunk, then held the door for Natalie.
Ben watched until the Uber was out of sight. “Please, please, don’t come back,” he whispered over and over. He wondered what he should do. Go downstairs and act surprised? If he did that, he just might get stuck cleaning up the mess. Should he just ignore it all and stay in his room the way he always did when Connor and Natalie had a fight? But this was different; this time Natalie had left. Connor said he was going to change the locks. That had never happened before.
Before he could change his mind, Ben opted to go downstairs. This, after all, was his house, and as such, he could do whatever he wanted. At the bottom of the steps, he made his way carefully because of all the broken glass that had scattered all over. He picked his way to the kitchen, where he heard Connor on the phone with a locksmith. “I need someone right now. Not tomorrow, not later today, now. Double your rate is fine if you come right now.”
“Go ahead and say it, Ben,” Connor suggested, slamming the phone back into the cradle on the wall.
“Say what? I just came down for a bottle of water. Just so you know, I’m not cleaning up that mess your wife created. And I sure hope you have a boatload of money so you can replace that china cabinet. It’s worth a fortune, and the crystal was from Grandma’s grandmother and worth a fortune also. You were tasked with keeping things just the way they were when you moved in here. Guess you plan on using my allotment for that, huh? Won’t be enough, Connor,” he said bravely.
“Natalie was right—you are a bratty little snot. I can’t believe I adopted you, and you carry my name. Don’t ever talk to me like that again. Do you hear me?”
Ben suddenly felt even braver and wasn’t sure why, maybe because of the envelope upstairs under the bathroom rug. Or maybe it was because he knew he could call his new best friend if something went wrong. He jammed his hand in his pocket and felt the comforting card she had given him. Isabelle had said he could call her anytime of the day or night. He could feel his backb
one stiffen.
He drew a deep breath. “Or what, Connor? What are you going to do to me? If anything happens to me, you are certainly the first person the police will look at. How do you know I haven’t told the people at the Institute about you and Natalie and how you treat me? That you don’t cook for me, you leave me to fend for myself. How do you know I didn’t tell them how you two spend all my money? How do you know you aren’t under surveillance? Huh? Aren’t you going to answer me?
“Here’s something else for you to think about. Don’t you ever talk to me like that again. This is my house; it is solely my name on the deed now after my mother died. Neither it nor the house on the Circle was ever yours. It’s mine. I’d like pork chops for dinner this evening. Six o’clock will be fine. Oh, and apple juice. I love apple juice.”
Connor Ryan stood perfectly still, his mouth hanging open. For the first time in his life, he was totally speechless. And then, red-hot anger raged through him as he fought the urge to snatch the boy and wring his scrawny neck. God Almighty, how did it ever come to this, with that skinny little shit kid calling the shots?
Controlling his anger, Connor bent over, picked up the broom, and set to work.
Ben turned on his heel and marched out of the room. At the doorway, he turned around and came back. “I wish you had never adopted me, too, so that makes us even.”
Ben ran for the steps, taking them two at a time. In the wide center hall, he looked into the master bedroom that Natalie had taken over as her own. It was what his grandmother would call one unholy mess. He grinned as he scurried into his room, then to the bathroom, where he locked the door. He wadded up a bunch of towels and curled into a ball, comfortable as could be.
This is like Christmas, he thought. Or one of those game shows in which you have to choose which door holds the big prize.
What was in the envelope? It was for him, he was certain of that. Otherwise, his grandmother would never have put it in Freddie for him to find. He pulled everything out. There was a thick wad of money with a band around it that said “$5,000.” Ben whistled. Five thousand dollars was serious money. His grandmother’s will. Okay, he’d read that later. He rifled through the papers until he found an envelope with his name on it. He literally swooned and grew light-headed. It was sealed. He picked it open, doing his best not to rip the envelope. He felt warm all over just holding the letter, which was addressed to him. And then his eyes started to burn as he read:
My Dearest Darling Ben,
I wish I weren’t writing this to you because it means I’m leaving you alone. When I say alone I mean without me nearby to watch over you. I know you are safe with Connor and that person he married. They will never harm you because you are the goose that lays the golden eggs once a month. I have people watching over you. Many eyes, Ben, so feel safe. They know what to do if they even suspect for a second that something is wrong. No harm will come to you. I wouldn’t leave you otherwise.
I know you want to know where I am and why I left. Right now I can’t share that with you, but it is for your own good that I’ve gone. You see, I made a serious mistake that I have regretted ever since, and now I have to make it right. No one else can do that but me. Rita and Irene are going to help me. Remember the talk we had when I told you how grown-ups sometimes make mistakes from time to time, and that’s okay as long as you learn from the mistake and try to make it right? That’s what I have to do. I should have done it a long time ago.
I left for two reasons. That was the first. The second reason, of course, was the lawsuit. I wanted to leave before the judge decided the case. I didn’t want them to arrest me for refusing to turn over all your mother’s money to Connor and that person he married. Your mother’s money is safe, guarded, and controlled by some very good people. They’re keeping it safe for you.
When I do what I have to do, I will return and hopefully at that time you will be able to come home to me. I count the days, Ben. You, my darling grandson, are the first thing I think about when I wake in the morning and the last thing I think about before I fall asleep.
I was hoping you would remember about Freddie and where I kept the key. And if you are reading this, then you must have. It was my hope that you would remember quickly, so you would not have too many unhappy days. I cry, Ben, for our loss. I’m going to make this right for both of us or die trying.
I love you, Ben, more than all the stars in the sky, more than all the water in the ocean, and more than all the grains of sand on the beach. Be brave, my darling grandson.
Love,
Grandma.
P.S. Rita and Irene send you hugs.
Tears rolled down Ben’s cheeks. He reached over for some toilet tissue and blew his nose with gusto, all the while holding his grandmother’s letter over his heart with his left hand. If he had tape, he would have taped it to his bare chest.
Ben cried harder. I’m so sorry, I should have found it sooner. All these months, and he never knew. He wondered who the people were who were watching over him. He never saw anyone who looked suspicious. Izzy? Was she one of them? And who did all the people watching over him report to?
What kind of mistake had his grandmother made that she had to go away to try to fix it? Did it have something to do with him or Connor? Or maybe his mother? Who?
Ben wracked his brain to try to figure out what kind of grown-up mistake could take someone like his grandmother six months to make right? He read the letter again. The mistake was part one. Maybe she had already fixed it, but part two was still hanging out there. Part two could take forever. Then again, maybe part one was tied to part two, and that was still open.
Ben looked down at the other papers. They looked like legal documents to him, with seals and stamps. His adoption papers. His birth certificate. His mother’s birth certificate and her death certificate. Tears flooded his eyes again. What was he supposed to do with all of this? Where was he supposed to keep it? Now that he’d stirred up a hornet’s nest with Connor, his stepfather might decide to check out his room. And horror of horrors, Natalie would probably come back at some point. For sure she’d poke around his room, check his computer.
Computer! He’d gotten sidetracked. Ben gathered all the papers and the letter from his grandmother and fit everything back in the envelope. All he needed was one credit card to do what he wanted to do online. He picked a Chase Visa at random, checked the expiration date, and set to work. He opened three accounts, each for $29.95. Isabelle Flanders Tookus, Natalie Kendrick Ryan, and Connor Sylvester Ryan. A window appeared, saying the results would be sent to his e-mail account within twelve hours.
Ben bundled up the rest of the credit cards and stuffed them into the yellow envelope. He kept the Chase Visa. But where to hide it? He finally decided to hide it under the inner sole of one of his dress shoes, which was sitting in the closet.
Ben paced. He knew he had to take the envelope back to his grandmother’s house and put it back in Freddie. His gut instincts told him it wasn’t safe to keep the contents of the envelope here in this house.
Once again, he jammed the envelope down his underwear and pulled on his windbreaker. He zipped it up all the way. He looked in the mirror to check that no bulges showed. He made his way downstairs. The china cabinet, he saw, was once again upright, but there were deep gouges in the old wood. A few pieces of crystal were on the shelves. Connor was still cleaning and sweeping.
“I’m going for a bike ride,” Ben called out. “When you make the pork chops, make mine breaded and fried. That’s the way I like them, just the way Grandma used to make them.”
Outwardly, Connor ignored him, but he cursed the little boy under his breath.
“Boy, did that ever feel good,” Ben mumbled to himself as he pedaled his way to the Circle and his grandmother’s house. Because he was a kid, he took his hands off the handlebars and did a wheelie. Then he laughed out loud. “How’s it feel, you lying sack of poop?” he bellowed, knowing no one could hear him. Boy, he sure felt good.
He felt so good that he rode the rest of the way with his arms straight out, laughing the whole time.
Chapter 4
The ancient grandfather clock in the foyer, a treasure that Abner had found at a flea market and lovingly restored, chimed eight times as Isabelle and Maggie hugged each other. Both women looked tired, yet exhilarated. “I think we’re on to something, Izz,” Maggie said. “I also agree to a meeting tomorrow at the farm. Oooh, hold on, I just got a text from Kathryn.”
Isabelle could hear her phone pinging from down the hall. She was probably getting the same text Maggie was. She looked at the reporter expectantly.
Maggie laughed. “I was right, it’s Kathryn. She said her last stop was canceled, and she’s on her way to the farm, so she’ll be there tomorrow for our meeting. Sometimes things have a way of working out just the way you want them to. Ever notice that, Izz?” she said, stepping into the elevator.
“All the time.” Isabelle giggled. “This way, we’ll get an early start on the mission if the others agree to take it on. Drive carefully, Maggie. See you tomorrow.”
“Okayyyyy, Mom,” Maggie drawled, as the elevator door slid closed.
The loft seemed exceptionally quiet after Maggie left. What to do with herself? Isabelle turned on the television but not to watch it, just for the noise. With nothing else on her immediate agenda, she wandered around the massive loft, wishing Abner were there so they could cuddle on the oversize chair that held them both comfortably. It was the one place in the loft where they, as a couple, confided to each other, shared secrets, and laughed and hugged and kissed. Their space. A simple chair. Who knew? She supposed she could curl up in it, but it wouldn’t be the same without Abner there. Better to plop down on the sofa and go to sleep as she watched some mindless TV game show or a rerun of some prehistoric movie she’d already seen a dozen times.
Or . . . she could go out to Target, which was eight minutes away, and do some shopping for the little guy. A cell phone so she could communicate with him. A watch, preferably a Mickey Mouse one, so he would always know what time it was, and so he wouldn’t be late. Why not? Mickey Mouse? He was certainly young enough in years to wear one, but with him a college freshman she wasn’t sure. Then she hooted with laughter. Annie wore a Mickey Mouse watch and loved it. She knew for a fact that Annie had more than one Rolex and several diamond-encrusted Tiffany timepieces. Yet she wore the Mickey Mouse watch with the leather strap band all the time, even when she was dressed to the nines. But then, Annie de Silva was just Annie.
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