Cold Hard Cache

by Amy Isaman

  How the hell had this thing blown so out of control? I dug around in my purse for a tissue. The tears kept coming as I stared out at Logan’s building,

  Anne’s situation was obviously way different than Bret’s. And now Logan was in the mix. I kept asking the same questions in my head, wondering if he and his best friend stole hundreds of thousands of dollars in gold from their grandfathers, from family?

  I could believe Brian would do it. But Logan? I thought back to the picture of Logan and Alex standing on a pile of gold in that drawing. And Frank’s legacy, which was in the heart of iris. I didn’t want it to be Logan, but everything pointed right at him.

  I knew Alex died in an accident that neither of his parents believed was accidental. And Frank was murdered with a knife to the gut.

  Had it been Logan hiding in the foyer while Frank uttered his last words to me? If so, Logan already knew where the gold was, and Alex had given his dad that hint about his legacy being in the heart of iris. So, if Logan was the murderer, why would he have stabbed the old man? It didn’t make any sense. Unless Frank threatened Logan somehow, and it was self-defense? But I found that hard to believe. Frank was an old drunk. Logan was a strong young twenty-year-old.

  The whole goal here was to help my mother and my sister. And I could. I’d recovered the stolen gold, and that could help Anne leave. Finances were no longer a reason to stay. Half of the money could go to Carly and half to Anne. That would solve so many problems.

  Except for the problem of Logan. I assumed it was Brian who took the gold and stashed it in the shed, hiding it from his family.

  Not Logan.

  I drove slowly back to the hotel for an evening with my sister, mom, and niece. Should I tell Anne what I’d discovered? How did I even start telling her that her son not only stole from his grandfather but that he also might have committed a far worse crime than theft? That Carly’s suspicions about Logan being involved in Alex’s accident might have been, well, dead on?

  Logan had a clear motive for killing Alex. Without Alex around, the entire cache of gold was his. But did Logan have a motive for killing Frank?

  I shuddered, not even able to imagine my nephew as a cold-blooded murderer. He stole the gold. But killed someone?

  I’d have to talk about it with my sister at some point, but not until after I figured out how to even broach the subject with her. Tonight, we could just have a fun girl’s night with a good dinner, a glass of wine and maybe even a movie.

  Eventually, we’d talk. But not yet.

  The guilt would eat at me if I never spoke up. And Carly deserved to know what happened to her son and husband. She deserved some of the gold, too. In fact, she deserved half of it.

  I pulled into the parking garage and immediately ducked as I drove under the first giant concrete beam, as if that would help if the Suburban were too tall for the garage. I navigated through the first floor and headed up to the second to find an open spot.

  The garage was packed until the third floor, where I saw Anne sitting in her parked car. She glared at me as I drove by and immediately got out of her car and watched me as I parked.

  Madi sat in the passenger seat. I waved and pulled in next to them, taking a few deep breaths as Anne marched toward me. Fury emanated off of her. I tried to center myself before the confrontation that was so obviously coming. It hit the second I opened the car door and stepped out.

  “What the hell, Tricia?” Anne yelled, her voice echoing in the garage.

  I stayed silent, wondering what accusation she’d hit me with first. Seeing Carly? Making her husband mad? Visiting Logan? Leaving Mom alone again? I glanced at my watch. I’d only been gone for about fifty minutes, so Mom would still be asleep, and she hadn’t called. Why I thought we could have a pleasant girl’s evening almost struck me as funny, and I smothered a grin at my own idiocy.

  “You think this is funny?” She all but shrieked, her face red with rage.

  “No, I don’t. I’m sorry, but it’s been a super crap day. You here, angry at me, is just sort of par for the course. So, I’ll just lay this out. I’ll talk to you, but I’m not going to get into a screaming match in the parking garage.”

  She dropped her voice. “Fine. I won’t ‘scream.’ Let me just ask, why were you at Carly’s today? Brian said he followed you there. I just got off the phone with Logan. He said you’re acting crazy and making accusations! What is wrong with you? Do you want to alienate your entire family? Do you really think that Logan had something to do with Frank’s death? And if you truly wanted to help, like you keep insisting, is this the way to do it? By visiting Carly—who’s already almost destroyed my family—and by making insane accusations about my son?”

  Despite saying she wasn’t going to scream, her voice kept getting louder and louder, and she kept getting closer, just like Brian had gotten right in my face. I guess she’d learned a few of his intimidation tactics over the years.

  I took a step back and waited for her to catch her breath, so I could speak. But she kept going.

  “Do you have any idea how stressful my life is? Especially now that Mom needs all this help. You know, I was looking forward to your visit, to having some support and help with mom, but you’ve been a total disaster. You’ve made my life worse, more of a hell than it already was.”

  “I’ve made your life hellish?” I finally managed to choke out. “Your problems with your marriage are my fault?”

  “Yes, you have made it worse! I’m fully aware that my marriage isn’t perfect, but we’ve been working on it. But since you’ve been home, it’s like all the progress we’ve made has just vanished.”

  “Stop there,” I said, taking a breath. “Let me ask you this. Are you both working on it, or are you working on it? Because from what I’ve seen, you put in a ton of effort, but I haven’t exactly seen that from your husband.” Brian wasn’t working on anything but Carly.

  “We both are,” she snapped. “But it’s not easy when you keep sending Brian over the edge. Neither of us can take it. I can’t live like this. It’s time for you to go. Every time I think I’ve got your mess cleaned up, you go and make another one that I have to deal with. I just can’t.”

  “Anne, you’re being ridiculous. I’ll own that I shouldn’t have left mom alone last week when she fell, even though she wanted me to leave her alone for a while. But finding Frank just happened. I couldn’t really help that nightmare. Nor did I have any idea about Brian and Carly’s history, or the nightmare Brian has become. I know it would make your life easier, but you can’t blame me for how your husband behaves.”

  She crossed her arms and glared.

  I glanced at her car. Madi watched us intently, so I dropped my voice to a whisper and grabbed my sister’s arm, pulling her behind me to the other side of the Suburban where Madi couldn’t see us.

  “Let go! What are you doing?”

  “Your daughter doesn’t need to hear this,” I hissed.

  Anne glanced back at her car and followed me. “Hear what?” She pulled her arm from my grasp.

  “Brian didn’t follow me to Carly’s house. He was pulling out of the driveway when Mom and I got there. Ask Mom about that. He’s lying. And he’s not working on crap when it comes to your marriage. I’m sorry to be the one to tell you that, but it’s time for you to open your eyes. You can’t blame his actions on me. I’ll take a lot from you, but not that.”

  “Like hell I can’t. That was over. We’d moved beyond it and you’ve brought it all back up. And you went to Logan’s apartment not once, but twice, making crazy accusations. Leave!” She swung her arm and pointed toward the parking garage entrance. “Get the hell out of my life. Stay away from me and my kids.”

  I stared at her, stunned. She really believed that her disaster of a life was my fault.

  “Did you hear what I said? Mom saw it too,” I asked.

  Her eyes welled with tears as she glanced back toward her car and her daughter. “I can’t. I can’t stay here with you.�
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  “Anne, please. You can’t go home. You’re upset, and Brian is dangerous. He threatened me today and crushed my phone.”

  She stared at me. “That’s what you don’t understand. I can handle Brian. It’s you I can’t deal with right now.”

  I turned around and walked a few steps away to catch my breath. I wanted to tell her to piss off and do whatever the hell she wanted, but I couldn’t. If Brian hurt her, I’d never forgive myself for giving up.

  For not even trying.

  “Just don’t go back to Elk Creek,” I pleaded with her. “There’s a woman’s shelter a few blocks from here. You can stay there for a bit. At least let you both have some space. You can calm down, maybe talk on the phone before you see him in person.”

  “What? How do you know there’s a woman’s shelter near here?”

  “Because I looked it up. I’m worried about your safety. And Madi’s. It would be a safe space for you both to spend the night and figure this out.”

  “Please, Tricia, stop. The last thing I need is for you to tell me what to do. The only thing I have to figure out is how to get you to leave here and go back to San Francisco, so I can put my life back together again,” she hissed, before turning and marching back to her car.

  “Then, don’t tell me what to do either,“ I shouted at her back. “I’ll leave when Mom and I are good and ready for me to leave.” As soon as the words left my mouth, I felt like an idiot. Why could my sister bring out my inner fourteen-year-old like no one else ever could?

  Anne slammed her car door and her tires squealed as she left, driving far too fast around the corners in the parking garage. I prayed that since she obviously wouldn’t go to the shelter, she’d at least stay at Mom’s house tonight and not go home to Brian. But I honestly didn’t know what she’d do.

  I didn’t know her anymore. Our phone calls every few weeks were about the kids, Mom, what we were doing. Not about anything real, like her cheating abusive husband. She never asked me for help, so why was I trying so hard to help her? Why couldn’t I just let it go?

  I leaned on the Suburban and closed my eyes, trying to calm down. Like Anne, I’d had it. Nobody in the world talked to me like my mom and sister did. But since it had always been that way, I never questioned it. I just acquiesced because it was easier to do what they wanted. Until now. They clearly didn’t like it when I made a decision on my own or even, God forbid, had an opinion they didn’t like.

  It was why I left and never came home. Somehow, I’d forgotten, and now that I was back for an extended time, even though thirty years had passed, the expectations were the same. Play nice. Be the peacemaker. Ignore the chaos and craziness.

  Bury it. Ignore and bury.

  A wave of exhaustion came over me as I headed toward the hotel.

  As soon as I opened the door and stepped inside, my mother started in. “I just spoke with your sister.”

  A dull pounding began behind my right eye, like a ball-peen hammer, tap, tap, tapping on my brain. Perfect. A migraine would be the finale to this extra special day.

  Mom sat on the couch, her walker next to her, with her phone in her lap. “Why can’t you just leave it all alone, Tricia?”

  “Leave what alone, Mom?” I dug into my purse, praying I had some of my migraine meds in there and that they weren’t all back at my mom’s house. I didn’t get headaches often, but when I did, I had a small window to take my prescription before the headache dropped me for a good six hours. I thanked God when I felt the prescription bottle buried at the bottom of my bag.

  “Hang on. I’m getting a headache.”

  My mom sighed, but she stayed silent while I walked across the room to the dresser and took a few sips from one of the complimentary bottles of water to down my pill. The second I swallowed, she started in again, not asking how I was feeling, just defending Anne again.

  “Let me ask again, why can’t you leave your sister and her family alone? You came here to help out with this damn hip surgery, but now you’re making crazy accusations about Logan? What has gotten into you? I was looking forward to an evening with both my daughters, but now I really don’t blame Anne for not staying here tonight.” She shook her head at me, like this whole sordid situation was all my fault.

  And who knew, maybe it was.

  “Well, I don’t know what to tell you. It wasn’t like I found Frank intentionally. Nor do I have anything to do with the fact that Anne’s husband is having an affair with Carly. At least we can agree that this whole thing is a mess.”

  “Anne wants you to go back to San Francisco.”

  “Mom, I’d love to go home. Trust me when I say that. But you’re not able to stay by yourself for at least another week or two until you can move better without the walker. Until your wrist heals up a bit more. What do you want? Do you want me to leave?”

  “I don’t even know anymore.” She lay her head back and stared blankly at the ceiling.

  “Mom, I’m baffled. Why aren’t you trying to help Anne? Do you think my leaving will do that? It’ll just make things harder on her, working, taking care of you, and her marriage. Brian is nuts. He’s threatened me twice now, yet you want me to leave? To add more pressure to Anne. I’ve tried to help her, but she clearly doesn’t want my help. And for whatever reason, you don’t seem to want me to help her either. Honestly? I don’t get it.”

  “Tricia, I would love it if she left him, but it’s not that easy. She has to think of Madi and her own safety. I’ve offered her to move back in with me, and she won’t. She’s always wanted to be like you, independent and successful, and she feels like a failure when you come back here, pointing out what a mess her life is. But that’s not what I’m talking about right now.”

  “So, what are you talking about?” I sat down in the chair next to her and patted her leg. “What? Please tell me.”

  “I’ve already said it, but you aren’t listening. Anne admires you, yet you insist on pointing out all of her failures, trying to rescue her from her own life. Leave it alone.”

  “I wish I could. Trust me, Mom. I do. But I can’t.” I went to the bathroom and grabbed the box of tissues off the back of the toilet before sitting down again. “Remember when Bret first started struggling? I trusted him to handle his stuff. Just like Anne, he said it was under control. It wasn’t, and he died. If Brian hurts Anne, I’ll never forgive myself for not trying to help.”

  I blew my nose, tears streaming down my face by this point. My family was a mess.

  “Honey, I know, but this is different. She’s perfectly healthy. And Brian, he’s been a good dad and a good husband for the bulk of their marriage. They’re in a rough spot, and they may or may not work it out. I have no idea about that, but I do know that she doesn’t want your help.” Mom stared at her hands in her lap and let out a long sigh.

  “You know, you’ve changed since Bret passed,” she added, grabbing for tissues for herself.

  That was truth. I wasn’t the same. And that was a good thing. I wasn’t a pushover. After his death and almost losing Laurel, I wasn’t willing to go through more loss because I was afraid of hurting someone’s feelings or overstepping just to keep the peace. If I could help, I would. Period.

  “What if money wasn’t an issue? Would she stay or would she leave?” That was the only reason I could fathom that she would stay, but like the lady at the shelter said, there were lots of reasons. Who knew what Brian had threatened her with if she left?

  Mom shook her head. “I don’t know. It’s complicated. But that’s not why I want to talk to you. Anne said that you went to see Logan and accused him of having something to do with Alex’s death or Frank’s death? Is this true?”

  “Yes, it’s true that I went to see Logan. And I asked him about Alex and Frank.” I stopped there, deciding not to elaborate, and sat down on the edge of one of the beds.

  “Why? Why would you do such a thing? He’s your nephew, Tricia. Why are you intentionally tearing this family apart?”

&nb
sp; “Mom, I—”

  She held up her hand to stop me. “I don’t want to hear another word about how you’re trying to help. Because that’s what you keep saying. But you’re not helping anyone here.”

  I nodded. “Right. Anne already told me that I’m responsible for her disastrous marriage and everything else wrong in her life. Whatever.” And there she was again. Fourteen-year-old me. When was the last time I’d said ‘whatever’ in an argument?

  I stood up and began pacing. When I got in front of my mom, I pretty much decided, hell with it.

  “There’s a lot you don’t know.”

  “Oh, really? Why don’t you enlighten me then?” Sarcasm laced her words. When had my mother gotten so mean? Or was she really that angry with me?

  “I found the cache of gold. There’s probably over a million dollars’ worth of coins based on my preliminary research.”

  My mother’s mouth dropped open, speechless.

  “It’s at your house. I think it’s been there all along.”

  At that, her eyes about bugged out of her head.

  Chapter 22

  MY MOM CONTINUED TO stare at me. She’d start to say something, and then fall silent again, shaking her head in disbelief.

  “Sit down,” she finally managed.

  I sat back down on the hard hotel chair, wishing for my soft, comfy couch at home that I could sink into. The migraine meds began to dull the pain though I could still feel it a bit. The slight floaty feeling the meds gave me let me know they were working. Leaning my head back, I told my mom how I found the gold the morning I pulled out all the patio furniture.

  “Why didn’t you tell me then? You’ve known for days?”

  My mother clearly didn’t know that the gold was in her backyard.

  “Because I didn’t know who put it there. Obviously, it’s someone in the family who has access to your shed. Someone we both trust. And that pretty much narrows it down to Logan, Brian, Anne, or Madi. Or you. But based on your reaction, I’m guessing you had no idea.”