Cold Hard Cache

by Amy Isaman

  “None.” She shook her head and stared at the ground as she spoke. “Why? Why would one of them hide it from everyone? Why not share it?”

  “I have no idea. Does anyone else visit your shed?”

  “No. Logan does all of the mowing. Or at least he did when he was living at home. Madi does it for me now. Logan will stop by and help me with yard work or whatever else I need when he visits, which is so sweet. He’s such a nice boy,” she added.

  Which made my stomach twist. Because he was in the shed the most, so it was most likely that he stole the gold. And, there was the distinct possibility that he might have killed both Alex and Frank to protect it. He certainly hadn’t shared any gold with his family.

  “It’s not in the shed anymore. I moved it.”

  “Why did you do that? Where is it?”

  “It’s safe. I thought that if we could sell it off, then Anne can leave Brian for good. Maybe Roberto can help us do that. And we can give Carly her share as well. I’m fairly sure that Logan and Alex went back before Frank and Del could get the rest of the cache. And they hid it before Alex died.”

  “How do you know all this?” my mom asked. “And why would the boys do that? The loss of the gold destroyed their grandfather’s friendship. Shoot, it pretty much destroyed Frank. And it’s when Brian really began to get so angry and awful. He was furious, sure that Frank stole everything, but he had no proof.”

  “What’s so sad is that Brian’s rage is so misdirected. Brian and his Dad blamed Frank, but Frank had nothing to do with the missing gold. It ruined him too. Logan and Alex took it. When I went to Carly’s house right after Frank died, she showed me her studio, which she set up in Alex’s room. His drawings and sketches hung on the wall. He apparently was quite the artist. He’d drawn a bunch of hands and eyes. I didn’t think much of it until I saw a similar drawing on Logan’s wall. The same sketches hung right over their beds. It was a profile of a face. In the eye, in the iris, was the reflection of two boys with their arms over each other’s shoulders standing on a pile of coins.”

  “But what did Frank say to you when he died? Something about flowers, wasn’t it?”

  I thought back to that night, with Frank leaning against the brick wall and grabbing my shirt as he struggled to speak. He’d finally managed to utter the words before the runner had fled, scaring me to death. My heart still raced remembering that night.

  “He said that his legacy was in the heart of Iris, or in the heart of the iris. I don’t remember if there was a ‘the’ or not. I thought he meant a woman named Iris, or a flower bed, or maybe even his giant purple rig, but it was that drawing. It was the iris of an eye. His legacy, the gold, was with his son. And Alex drew an image of it and hung it on his wall where his parents could see it every day, if they knew what they were looking at. He didn’t say where he hid it, he just showed that he had it. That it was safe with him and Logan.”

  “But I still don’t understand. Why would the boys do that to their families and their grandfathers? They knew what that money would’ve meant for their families. That fight tore their friendship and their families apart.”

  “I have no idea what they were thinking. I guess that’s a question for Logan. We can’t ask Alex anymore.”

  “Or Frank,” she added. My mom’s voice had softened, “And that’s why you went to see Logan? You honestly think he had something to do with Alex’s death? Or Frank’s?”

  “I don’t know. Carly is convinced that he did. We found Alex’s phone in the safe deposit box when I went to Boise with her. Alex had tried to send his safe word to his dad on the day that he died, but it hadn’t sent. It was like their code word if he needed help. Carly’s convinced that Logan was with him that day because according to her, Alex wasn’t a drinker. It wasn’t like him to get drunk on his own and roll his 4-wheeler. But since his dad was a known drunk, nobody really believed her, and there was no evidence otherwise. She thinks his phone is that evidence, and apparently Frank did too, which is why he had it hidden and safe. But nobody believed him. Even the cops.”

  My mother stared out the window and into the darkening sky. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. Logan couldn’t have anything to do with Alex’s death. It was an accident. Frank and Carly are reaching for straws. Losing a child has got to be one of the most horrific experiences ever, and I can understand wanting to blame someone. But not Logan.”

  “That’s what I thought. Until I found the gold and saw the drawings.”

  “You can’t honestly believe that he had anything at all to do with either of them dying. That’s murder, for God’s sake.”

  “Mom, I don’t know what to believe right now. But I’m pretty sure that Logan and Alex stole the gold. Alex and Frank are dead. And there’s a cache of well over a million dollars hidden at your house.” I studied her as she literally kept wringing her hands, twisting them together in her lap.

  “It just doesn’t make any sense!” By this time, a pile of wet tissues littered the couch and the floor around her. “I can’t imagine any of this. Logan? No. He would never do any of the things you keep saying he did. He just wouldn’t. I know my grandson.”

  I rubbed my eyes in frustration. They ached and pounded with the headache that had yet to subside. I didn’t want to believe any of it either, but there was a fortune in gold in her shed.

  “I know, Mom. None of this sounds rational. At all. But what conclusions do you reach?”

  “I think I need to sleep on it.”

  “Okay, sleep on all of it. We have the money now to help Anne and even to help Carly out. Anne doesn’t have to stay with Brian and fear for her life. Carly can focus on raising her daughter without the stress of single parenthood and Frank being gone. We can do a lot of good with this money. There’s no reason it should be sitting in your shed, not helping anyone.”

  She sighed deeply and blew her nose again. “Tricia, that’s what you don’t understand. It’s not up to us to rescue them. That’s up to them. You live your life, and they’ll live theirs.”

  “Mom,” I bit out, wanting to shake her. “If we can help, we should.”

  “Sometimes, the best way to help people is to let them find their own way. We don’t know why people make the decisions they make, why they do the things they do. Your help might not be helping at all. Think about that. You can’t rescue people who don’t want to be rescued.”

  She pulled her walker toward her. Apparently, our discussion was over.

  “Do you need help?” I asked, standing.

  “No. I’ve got it.” She gripped the handles and slowly pulled herself up before looking me dead in the eye. “I need to do this on my own. I’m going to bed. I need to sleep on all of this. Remember, my appointments at nine. We need to leave here by eight-thirty.”

  And she slowly made her way to the bathroom.

  It took me about five minutes to fall into bed and a deep sleep.

  ♦♦♦

  Mom was quiet throughout breakfast, her appointment, and during our ride home. We didn’t talk about the gold or Logan or my sister. I figured when she was ready, she’d let me know.

  I pulled into her driveway and saw my packed suitcase sat on the front porch.

  Mom refused to look at me when I glanced over at her. She held her hands tightly clenched in her lap.

  “What’s my suitcase doing on the porch?”

  “You’re leaving, Tricia. It’s best.” Her voice cracked as she spoke, but she didn’t have the nerve to even look at me.

  “What? No, I’m not. And when did you decide this?”

  At that moment, my sister opened the front door and stood next to my suitcase, her arms crossed defensively. I got out and walked toward my sister.

  “Anne, you can’t just kick me out. We’ve talked about this. I’m staying for at least another week to help Mom.”

  “Not anymore.” She brushed past me toward our mother who got herself out of the car.

  I hurried into the house
. My room looked like it did when I arrived three weeks ago with the bed made, sheets clean. There were even vacuum marks on the carpet.

  It was like I’d never been back, but it wasn’t my clothes and toiletries that I cared about right now.

  I ripped open the closet door. The three memory boxes were stacked exactly as I left them. The box that held my prom dress and yearbooks was still on top. I lifted those aside to check the gold.

  But the bottom box, the one in which I carefully hid all of the gold was empty.

  The gold was gone. I stared at the carton, stunned.

  I went back into the living room. My mother sat in her chair. She glanced at me but couldn’t maintain eye contact. She’d planned this with my sister.

  When? And then I realized that she could have done it all after I’d gone to bed. I slept so hard I wouldn’t have heard anything. Shoot, she could have even left the hotel room, and I wouldn’t have known.

  I was surprised to see Roberto on the couch, watching this little drama play out. I knew he and mom had been talking and rekindling their long-forgotten relationship, but why was he here for this family drama? Were they that close?

  Anne stood by the door, her arms crossed as she glared at me, watching my every move.

  “Looks like you got it all.” I watched my sister to see her reaction. But there was nothing. Not a twitch. Not a nod. Nothing. Had she moved the gold? Had she known it was in the shed? Or had Logan come back last night while we were gone and moved it? Or shoot, maybe it was Brian who discovered it gone from the shed, found it in my room, and told Anne to make me leave.

  At this point, it could be any of them, though I still my money was on Logan. I only knew that it was someone in my family. Someone who, a few short weeks ago, I trusted.

  And they trusted me.

  Now?

  Nobody trusted anyone.

  Anne held out a piece of paper. “Here’s your ticket. Mom bought it. You fly out in a few hours. Roberto’s going to drop you off.”

  “Mom bought it? When?” I stared at my mother, who refused to look at me. What the hell was going on?

  “You planned this whole thing and made Mom buy my flight? On her fixed income?” I said, trying to bait my sister. If she’d taken the gold, making my mother buy the ticket when my mom couldn’t even look me in the eye was extra shitty.

  I turned back to my mother. “I’ll transfer the cost of it back into your account. You don’t need to pay for my ticket.”

  My mother finally glanced up at me and nodded. When had she become so damn passive? I didn’t remember this side of her. Maybe she had the best poker face of all of us because I never saw this coming.

  At all.

  I turned back to Anne. “So, just like that, you’ve decided that you can handle everything here? When did you two plan this banishment? When I was in the shower this morning before mom’s appointment? Or after I fell asleep last night at the hotel?” My migraine meds tended to knock me out, and we’d gone to bed early, without even eating dinner. But still.

  This was cold.

  “Tricia,” my mom said. “It’s time. You need to get back to your own children and your business.” She ignored my question completely. “You came here to help with my hip surgery, and I’m fine. Dr. Anderson was so pleased with my hip and how it’s been healing. You heard him yourself, this morning. Roberto can help get me to my appointments both here and in Boise, and you can call whenever you want.”

  I couldn’t even listen to my mom. I kept staring at my sister, wondering if she knew about the cache.

  “Well, are you ready?” Roberto asked, heading to the front door. “We might as well hit the road.”

  “No. Wait, I have one more question for my sister.” I held up my hand at Roberto and turned to Anne. “What did you do with it?”

  Her eyes narrowed at me, but I couldn’t tell if it was confusion or anger. “Do with what?”

  “Oh, you know exactly what I’m talking about. The gold. What did you do with the gold?”

  “You are insane,” she snapped. “Now I supposedly have the gold? You need to leave. You’re tearing this family apart.”

  Did she seriously think I was the one who was tearing this family up? Not her cheating abusive husband? Or her son who’d committed God knows what crimes?

  I decided to try another tack. “Where did you stay last night?”

  “At my house,” she snapped. “With my family,” she added before turning and marching out the front door.

  Her voice hitched when she added that last part, so maybe she lashed out at me because it was safer for her. I wouldn’t hit back. Physically at least.

  “This is ridiculous. You can’t just kick me out of our mother’s house. Who do you think you are?”

  Anne ignored me and kept walking.

  I turned back to my mother. “What is happening here? You’re really kicking me out?”

  My mother slowly stood, pulling herself up with her walker, and waved at me to come closer. “Give me a hug. I love you.”

  I walked toward her, stunned, wondering if they planned this together so they could keep the gold without me. That damn treasure was going to destroy whatever relationship we had left. I didn’t even want it. I wanted to give it to my sister and Carly. Or maybe that was it? I’d told my mom that Carly deserved some.

  My mind raced as I gave my mother a hug. I pulled back and looked at her. “Is this what you want?”

  “I want to protect my family,” she whispered. “And what you told me last night will destroy them. I love them. I love you. Go back to the city, and I’ll call you later this week. It’s all going to work out.”

  “Really?” I asked in disbelief. “You’re just going to push this all under the rug, like nothing has happened? Like two people haven’t died, and a treasure hasn’t been stolen?”

  “Tricia, that’s enough.”

  “No, it’s not. This is insanity. You just want me to leave so you don’t have to face the fact that this family is hiding something horrific? I won’t just leave and go back to San Francisco and pretend that nothing happened. Anne might have that perfected when Brian loses his shit, but I’m not Anne. If I go anywhere, I’m going to the police. I’m telling them everything.”

  “No, you’re not,” my mother said, her face red with anger. “You keep saying you want to help, and right now, the best way to help is for you to go back to your family.”

  “Why? So you can keep the gold? Did you and Anne hide it together? Or was it Brian? Has he threatened you, too? Is that it?”

  “Tricia,” my sister yelled from the door. “You’re the crazy one. Nobody knows what the hell you’re talking about. You’re running around, saying there’s all this gold but there’s exactly zero evidence of any of it because it magically keeps disappearing. And then you accuse family members of murder and of attacking you. With zero evidence. Yet, you’re calling us crazy? How dare you?”

  I stared at my sister. Was that how they really saw me?

  “I have evidence,” I blurted out.

  “Really? Where? Show me this gold, then,” she said, waving her arms around. “Show us. I’m ready. Or is your evidence a drawing that my son’s best friend drew when they were juniors in high school? A picture that he hung on his wall to remember his friend by because his friend died in an accident. Is that your evidence?”

  I turned back to my mother. “Tricia, please. Show us something. Do you have the gold? Can you show it to us? Anything at all?”

  I wanted to throw up. They thought I was the crazy one, here to destroy them?

  “You’re the nut-case,” my sister yelled at my back. “Go back to California where you belong.”

  I turned and headed out the door, feeling numb. How could I make them understand? After listening to them, I didn’t think I could. And maybe I was crazy.

  The gold was hidden in the shed. I moved it. And somebody found my hiding place and moved it again. Now, I looked like a crazy idiot, out to destroy
my family.

  Roberto grabbed my suitcase from the porch, and I followed him across the neatly manicured lawn toward his car.

  Chapter 23

  TWO HOURS LATER, I stood at the airport counter with my bag. “Looks like your flight has been delayed. Fog.” The airline rep smiled. “Sorry about that. You can check in now, or you can hang onto your bag and come back later.”

  “Any idea when it’ll leave?”

  The woman shook her head. “No. This is the last direct flight to SFO today. I can reroute you on a later flight through Seattle or Phoenix, but I can’t guarantee that you’ll be able to land in the city tonight.”

  This shitty day that just kept crapping on me. “What about Oakland? Or even San Jose? Are they open?”

  “We don’t have anything, but you could book something on another airline if you’d like.”

  “Can you put me on the earliest flight tomorrow?”

  “Of course. It’ll just take a few minutes to rebook your flight.”

  I sighed while she made the new arrangements before heading back out of the airport. What now?

  I grabbed the first taxi I saw.

  “Where to?”

  “I need a hotel for the night. I don’t really care which one.”

  “Sounds good. I’ll take you to a nice one. It’s got lots of local character.”

  “Just so long as by ‘local character’ you don’t mean shit-hole,” I said.

  He laughed. “Nah. It’s clean. I like to support locally owned places if people are willing. No need to give any more of our hard-earned money to these corporations when we’ve got hard-working Americans who can really use it.”

  A few minutes later, he pulled up to what looked more like a bed-and-breakfast than a hotel which was fine with me. Until I walked in and was greeted by a giant stuffed black bear. Its glassy eyes were focused on a stuffed and lacquered salmon jumping out of a pond made of some sort of plastic. The bear was reaching his arm and massive claws toward the fish, a scene that would be super cool to see in the wild, with live animals, but not here… in a hotel lobby.