Cold Hard Cache

by Amy Isaman

  “How, exactly, is me going to visit a childhood friend the day after she buried her husband in any way evidence that I’m doing any investigating? And, since you yourself told me you weren’t on this case because it was a conflict of interest, why all the interest from you?” My heart raced but I refused to show this asshole any fear. I grabbed my phone off my lap. “Hang on, let’s record this little chat. I’m guessing you guys don’t have body cams out here and even if you did, yours is probably turned off. Am I right?”

  Brian reached in the car, plucked my phone from my hand, dropped it, and ground the glass screen with his heel. “Hmm. I don’t think it’s working.”

  I glared at him, trying not to puke with fear. “Apparently not. I guess I need to get to town to get another one. Before I go, let me ask you this. Do you want me to leave because you’re afraid your cover-up of Alex’s death will come to light if I stay, or is it so you can keep all the gold you stole from Frank?”

  He scoffed. “It’s time for you to get the hell out of here and go back to San Francisco. You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about. And you’re stirring up stuff that’s been put to rest. After you leave, we all still have to live here with the consequences of all of your crazy accusations.”

  “Crazy accusations? I don’t think they’re so crazy. What were you doing at Carly’s this morning? Was that visit part of your investigation?”

  “Actually, yeah. It was. I asked her some questions, which is what I’m guessing she told you. Stop making waves where there are none. If you haven’t noticed, we have a small department, so we help out where we can.” He leaned closer, “Let it go, Tricia.”

  “No. I won’t. Because as I already pointed out, you’re not part of this investigation. You’re just a small-town cop who’s been pulled off the biggest case this county has seen in who-knows-how-long and that pisses you off, doesn’t it? Does pulling your fifty-year-old sister-in-law over and threatening her make you feel like you’re part of it? What are you hiding, Brian? It’s more than your relationship with Carly.” I shoved the car in drive and stomped on the gas. He jumped back and banged his hand on the side, as the old Suburban did its best to give me a good getaway. It failed.

  The behemoth refused to move quickly. The tires spun a bit and I careened back out onto the road, thankful that nobody was coming. I hadn’t even checked the mirrors before lurching onto the road. My only thought was to get the hell away from him and not show fear. He terrified me, all big and hulky and mean. When I looked in the rear-view mirror, he stood glaring after me, his hands on his hips.

  How on earth had my sister stayed with him for this long? I wanted to think that there must be some other reason besides the mental and emotional abuse she’d been undergoing for years, but for the life of me, I couldn’t figure out what. I just knew I didn’t want her going home tonight. I couldn’t believe he crushed my phone. What would he do to her if I pissed him off that bad? She needed to stay with us for a few days, but I couldn’t call her, and I couldn’t go see her. If Brian saw me parked at the salon or at their house, who knows what he’d do to both of us. I didn’t want to make it worse for her, but we needed to talk.

  And when we did, should I tell her that he’d taken up with Carly again? Or did she already know?

  Chapter 20

  I WATCHED MY REAR-VIEW mirror the whole way back to pick my mom up from physical therapy. If Brian tried to pull me over again, I wouldn’t stop. I shouldn’t have stopped the first time though that honestly hadn’t even occurred to me. But now I knew. If he tried again, I’d keep driving to the police station, and I’d sit outside and honk until someone came out and escorted me in.

  Brian terrified me, but hell if I was going to let him know that. And hell if I was going to be alone with him ever again.

  An hour later, my mom and I were headed to Boise so I could purchase a brand-new phone I couldn’t afford. We went back to where he crushed my phone, but he’d taken it with him. The only thing on there related to the gold was the picture of the coin I took at the bank, but I didn’t think he could get anything off of it anyway. My hands shook with anger as I thought about it.

  I didn’t want to tell Laurel about the new expense because she’d ask why, then she’d worry, and probably tell me to come home. But I couldn’t do that.

  Not yet.

  As we drove, I filled my mother in on Brian pulling me over and threatening me.

  “I can’t believe he’d go that far,” she said.

  “Me either. He must be a hell of an actor to hide that side of him from us for all of these years. Or he’s only recently been losing it.”

  “Well, they went to counseling a few years ago. I thought they worked through some of this stuff. You know cops have to deal with a lot.” She shook her head. “He must be under a lot of stress.”

  “No. Don’t make excuses for him. He was threatening and scary and way out of line. I don’t care how much stress he’s under. I tried to not show fear because I feel like that kind of feeds him, but he’s super scary. He just plucked my phone out of my hand and crushed it when I said I was going to film him. He should not be a cop. The man needs counseling.”

  “Well, they did get marriage counseling.” My mom held her hands clasped tightly in her lap. “This is a side of him that your sister has told me about, but I’ve never seen it. Not until last week.”

  “Well, I’ve now seen it twice. And I don’t like it. He’s got issues.” And he hated me which didn’t make me feel any better.

  “Yes, I see that now. Do you think we should invite Anne to come to Boise? I have my follow-up appointment in the morning with the surgeon, so there’s no reason to go back tonight. She and Madi could come and we could have a girl’s night. What do you think?”

  “I think that’s a great idea. I think we could all use a relaxing fun evening. Do you think she’ll come?”

  “Let me call her.” Anne agreed to stop by the house and grab some clothes for each of us, and we’d meet her at her favorite restaurant downtown.

  “Let’s not bring any of that up when your sister gets here this evening. Okay?”

  “Fine with me.” I had no intention of spending a tense evening arguing with my sister.

  My Mom fell silent, and I debated telling her about the gold, but I wasn’t quite ready for that yet. I didn’t want to completely freak her out. Nor did I want her to bring it up with Anne.

  With all that settled, we got a suite at the Marriott downtown, big enough for all of us to have our own beds and some space.

  “I think I’m going to rest for a bit,” Mom said as she navigated to the bed and sat. She pulled her phone from her purse and set it on the bedside table. “I’ve got this if you want to go and do something. I’m fine.”

  “No. I’m not going anywhere.” I sat down on the couch. “The last time I left you, you fell.”

  “Tricia, I’m exhausted. I’m going to sleep for at least an hour if not more. Those physical therapy sessions wear me out. And I don’t particularly want a babysitter, so if you want to go get a coffee or go to the lobby and call Laurel, do it. I’m fine. I’ll call if I need you.”

  Almost immediately, Mom dozed off on her bed and snored softly. I watched her sleep for a minute. Should I go? I really wanted to talk to Logan, but if she fell again, I’d never forgive myself. But I also knew, based on her napping schedule over the past few weeks, she’d be out for a good two hours.

  I watched her for a few more minutes, checked to make sure her phone was fully charged, and finally grabbed my keys. I thought about calling Logan first but maybe a surprise might be better.

  His apartment was only five minutes away, so I could be back here quickly if something happened. But I planned to be back before she woke up.

  I pulled into his apartment complex parking lot and immediately regretted my decision to surprise him. That had gone terribly wrong the first time when I was with Carly. And knocking on Carly’s door today without any warning hadn�
��t gone so well either.

  I grabbed my phone and dialed Logan. He picked up on the first ring. “Hey, Aunt Trish. What’s up? Is Grandma okay?”

  “Yeah, she’s fine. I’m here, downstairs.”

  “You’re here? At my apartment?”

  “Yeah. Can I come up? We need to talk.”

  He waited before answering. “Look, if it’s about Alex and all that, I don’t know anything.”

  “It’s not about Alex. Well, I don’t know. It might be. Can I come up?”

  He sighed. “Is it about my parents?”

  “No. It’s not. That’s, well, we can talk about that later if you want to.” His question tore at my heart. I could hear the tension and sadness in his voice when he asked. He obviously knew his dad, knew how bad things were at home.

  “I’ll meet you in the hall.”

  Logan was standing outside his door waiting for me when I got off the elevator. He wore old jeans held up with a belt and a t-shirt. His hair was slightly damp just on top, as if he’d hurriedly tried to get somewhat presentable while I came up. He ushered me inside. His apartment felt stale. The shades were drawn, and food wrappers and containers covered the coffee table.

  “Uh, sorry for the mess. I’ve been busy. And I wasn’t expecting you.” He ran his hand through his hair.

  “Sorry about that. We weren’t planning on coming in today until a few hours ago. Are you in the middle of mid-terms? Lots of studying?”

  “Um, yeah,” he replied. But I didn’t see any books around.

  “How many credits are you taking this semester?”

  He looked at me, his eyebrows raised, almost in surprise. “Fifteen,” he said after a lengthy pause. “Do you want a glass of water or anything?”

  “Sure. Thanks. Would you mind if I used your bathroom first?”

  He shrugged.

  I hurried down the hall. Two small bedrooms flanked a bathroom. The door was shut on one, but Logan’s door was open. And when I glanced in, I stopped cold. His room was a disaster, with clothes, books, and beer cans scattered around. A giant TV hung on the wall across from his bed which was where it looked like he spent most of his time. A video game console sat under the TV and a game looked like it was on pause, characters frozen with their guns, hiding behind destroyed buildings.

  But it wasn’t the video game or the mess that grabbed my attention. I slowly walked across his room, staring at a drawing he’d pinned to the wall. It looked exactly like one of the drawings I’d seen in Alex’s room, kind of a creepy image of a profile, showing one eye. But reflected in the eye were two boys, their arms draped around each other. They seemed to be standing on a hill with a small creek running beside them. They were small but clear. I leaned in and studied them. But what originally looked like rocks beneath their feet were little coins.

  Exactly like the one in my pocket.

  And Alex’s signature was scrawled across the bottom corner of the drawing.

  My gut churned and I felt sick. I thought the iris in Frank’s message alluded to Carly’s flower beds filled with iris or Frank’s giant purple rig. He said that his legacy was in the heart of iris. But it wasn’t a flower or a truck. The iris was part of an eyeball. Alex drew these pictures and told his father where to find the gold he and his best friend hid. And then, Alex had died. Did they stash the gold in my mother’s shed together? Or did Logan move it after Alex died?

  After he killed Alex? Or gotten him drunk and sat him on a 4-wheeler? What the hell had happened?

  I turned to his desk, searching for his class schedule. As silently as I could I lifted a few books. Tucked into the clear cover of a binder was a handwritten chart, his course schedule. Thank God. I grabbed my phone and took a quick picture of it. He didn’t have any night classes.

  Or at least they weren’t noted on this schedule.

  A kitchen cupboard slammed shut, and heart racing, I bolted out of Logan’s room and into the bathroom where I promptly got sick.

  I rinsed my face with cold water and stared at my own reflection in the mirror.

  Now what?

  I came here to ask Logan where he was when Frank died, to get his alibi to prove to myself and Carly that he’d had nothing to do with Frank’s death. I hadn’t planned on asking about Alex. In fact, I hadn’t even really thought much about Alex’s text. But now I didn’t know what to think.

  And if Logan was like his father, with a terrifying streak that he kept hidden, was I in danger?

  He clearly wasn’t doing well, holed up in his apartment playing violent video games. But then again, my own son spent plenty of weekends and days off doing the exact same thing, so I couldn’t reach conclusions there.

  All I knew was that Logan wasn’t acting grief-stricken. He was acting guilty. He hadn’t cried at the funeral. His apartment was dark and filled with someone who felt like they were hiding or depressed.

  Questions swirled in my mind as I dried my face and hands and tried to calm down before my visit with my nephew. I walked slowly toward the living area. Logan sat in the corner of his couch, intently looking at his phone.

  I sat down across from him.

  “What’s up?” he asked, setting his phone down.

  “I met Roberto Hoffman at Frank’s funeral,” I said, deciding to start with the gold before getting to anything else, if I even did get to asking him anything else.

  “Oh. Who’s that?” He looked completely innocent, like he didn’t know who I was talking about at all.

  “He owns a coin shop here in Boise,” I said, studying him for any kind of reaction. “He was sitting a few rows in front of us at the funeral. Apparently, he and your grandma were high school sweethearts.”

  “Oh,” he nodded slowly, his face still blank.

  “I guess I thought you might know him.”

  “Why would I know an old guy that grandma went to high school with?”

  “Because he apparently knows you.” Roberto hadn’t ever said he recognized Logan, but the way he studied that photo and tapped on it made me think he’d met either Brian or Logan before.

  Logan laughed. “Or he’s senile and he has no idea who or what he knows. Why would he say he knows me?” Logan leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest, a tight smile on his face.

  “He saw your family’s picture at grandma’s house. Said you were in the shop with some gold coins,” I lied.

  Logan laughed. “Really? Then he does have a good memory. I haven’t been in a coin shop in Boise in years. Since Alex died. Frank gave him a few of the coins that he and Grandpa Del found, so when we were in high school, we came to Boise and took them to some shops to see what they were worth.”

  Holy crap. It worked. Logan admitted that he sold off some coins. Was this the truth? Had Logan not been there for years?

  “Is that why you’re here? To tell me that Grandma’s old friend recognized me from a few years ago?” Logan raised one eyebrow.

  “Well, that and to ask you why you left the funeral early.”

  “I told you. I was at a study group. And I didn’t want to upset Carly. I wanted to say goodbye to Frank, but the last time I saw Carly was when she was here with you, and she was blaming me for Alex’s death. Why are you asking me these things?” Logan leaned over, his elbows on his knees and anger etched on his young face.

  “Because I want to know what happened. So, I’m just going to ask. Were you in class when Frank died, too?”

  “What the hell?” He stood up and began pacing before stopping and staring at me. He held his hands out and I noted they were shaking. “You’re my aunt. You know me, and you think I had something to do with Frank’s murder? Me?”

  “Honestly, Logan, I don’t know what to think. But,”I paused, thinking of how to word what I wanted to say. “Some things have happened, and I’ve been threatened for even asking questions. And I’m learning that this family has some dark secrets.”

  Logan’s face began to redden, as he clenched his fists. I grabbed my purse off th
e table and stood, ready to flee if needed.

  “Yeah, this family has secrets. Why the hell do you think I left Elk Creek? I don’t want anything to do with my family and their version of crazy. My mom probably cried and got all weepy and told you that I don’t come back to Elk Creek. I already hear it all the time. Sounds like you’re figuring out why I won’t go back, but you coming here, accusing me of killing Frank? That’s, that’s just bullshit.” He headed toward the door and opened it. “I always thought you were different. But you’re not. You’re just like them. You need to go. Now.”

  I stared at the young man who held the door. Everything in me wanted to hug him, to remember the sweet little boy he’d been. I thought about asking him about the gold, but what would that achieve?

  What the hell had Brian and Anne done to him? Was it the toxicity of their marriage? Or something else? He and Alex cashed in some coins. And now all the gold was in the shed. Had he and Alex taken it all? Or had Brian taken it from them? Had Brian told him not to come back? Or was that Logan’s decision? Or were they in this together?

  Chapter 21

  I SAT IN THE SUBURBAN in front of Logan’s apartment and cried. What had happened to my family, and how was I so totally oblivious to it all for all these years?

  All the guilt I felt after Bret’s death came barreling back and settled in my gut. I believed my husband when he said he felt better, that the meds were working, that he was getting his anxiety under control. And he seemed to be doing well. I didn’t learn until after I found his body that he’d been part of the small percentage of people whose medication had the side effect of worsening depression. He’d asked me to trust him, and I had, so I hadn’t researched the meds.

  I didn’t question him or his doctor when things still felt off. I’d trusted him.

  And he died.

  I wouldn’t let my sister die too.

  But was my digging into all these secrets making it more unsafe for her? Or would it eventually help her to leave and make life safer? I wished I had a crystal ball, or even another tarot reading like the one in London, just to help me see, to maybe get another perspective.