The instant Pine saw the look, his smile faded. “Can I offer you something?” he asked, pointing to the tray on the receptionist’s desk.
“No thank you.”
“Okay. Then if you’d like to follow me, my office is right down the hall.”
Pine’s office was large, offering a clean view of Rocky Mountains that were sprinkled white with the season’s first snowfall.
“Please have a seat,” he said, pointing to a leather swivel chair that faced his desk.
As Camille sat, she watched Pine walk to a file cabinet adjacent to his desk. After unlocking and opening one of the drawers, he emerged with a large brown envelope in hand.
“Before we start, I should probably tell you a little about my relationship with Julia,” Pine said as he sat down behind his desk. “First off, we’ve known each other for well over a decade. We were actually in the same graduating class at Yale. She had originally recruited me when she came back to Denver to work for Brown and Epstein. I took her up on it, but after a year at the firm I got sick of the political in-fighting and decided to start up my own shop instead. Julia and I remained good friends throughout the years and I’ve been her personal attorney for almost six. She spoke of you often. In fact, the last time I talked to her was on the morning she was to pick you up from the airport. She couldn’t have been more excited you were coming. We hadn’t talked for a while and had made tentative plans to get together for lunch. Of course I had no way of knowing that would be the last time I would…” His voice trailed off as he chewed on the tip of his fingernail.
“I’m sorry,” Camille said, looking at a once strong, confident face that was now contorted with emotion.
Pine cleared his throat in an effort to compose himself. “It’s been difficult on everyone who knew her. And there were a lot of people around here who knew her. But no one knew her as well as you. I’m aware of the circumstances of your return here and the hell that you’ve been through since. I can sit here and say that I have some idea of how you feel. But the reality is I don’t. All I can say is I’m sorry.”
“Thank you,” Camille answered in a broken voice.
The two sat in prolonged silence, each seeming to process the gravity of the moment in their own way. After a few moments, Pine was the first to speak again.
“I guess I should get to why I actually called you here. As I mentioned, Julia and I met last Thursday morning. She had originally told me that the purpose of the meeting was to modify her existing will. But when she got here I discovered that she actually wanted to draft a second one. I told her that in all the years I’ve been doing this, I’ve never heard of anyone wanting a second will in addition to the one they already had. Typical Julia, she simply smiled at me and said ‘Larry my man, there’s a first time for everything.’”
Camille laughed. Typical Julia indeed.
Pine continued. “She went on to tell me that it wasn’t an official will and had nothing to do with the division of her assets. All she told me was that it was something that was to be opened by me and only me upon her death. Nothing to notarize or otherwise document. Just my word that I would do with it what she asked me to do. I laughed when I took the envelope, not knowing what it was and never once thinking to ask. Obviously I wasn’t laughing the next morning.”
Camille edged forward in her chair as Pine held up the envelope.
“As per her instructions, I didn’t open it until after the reading of her will was complete. I found two items inside – a handwritten letter addressed to me and a smaller envelope. The letter was short, and didn’t say anything about the contents of the envelope.”
With that, Pine handed Camille the large mailer. She reached inside and pulled out the small, unmarked envelope. The lightweight paper suddenly felt like an eighty-pound weight in her hand and she let it drop to the desk.
“Did the note say anything else?” a shaken Camille asked.
“Only that it was to be given to you immediately.”
Camille’s chest felt heavy. “How did she seem to you that day?”
Pine briefly searched his memory before answering. “Fine. Happy. Couldn’t stop talking about how excited she was to see you.”
“Did she seem off in any other way, like she was worried about anything?”
“If she was, she didn’t show it. When she gave me the envelope she was pretty nonchalant, like she was making a conscious effort to downplay the importance of her request. Of course I knew better. Julia never did anything nonchalantly.” Pine paused to reflect further. “I know what you’re getting at with the question, and the timing of her visit is something I’ve been wracking my brain over. She wasn’t nervous, she wasn’t flustered. She was nothing more than her usual boisterous, charming-as-hell self. I personally think the fact that she died less than a day later was one of those instances of the universe swift-kicking us in the ass with a not-so-gentle reminder that nothing in this life, not even the air we breathe, belongs to us.”
Diverting her damp eyes away from Pine, Camille looked at the envelope. But she was suddenly afraid to touch it. Whatever was inside would serve as the last contact Julia would ever make with her. After this, there would be nothing else. The finality of it made Camille want to run away, to tell Laurence Pine to keep it for another five, ten, twenty years, or perhaps to never give it to her at all. At least then there would be a chapter of their relationship that would always remain open; one last meeting left strictly to the imagination, free to be constantly molded by any mood – happy, sad, or otherwise – that Camille saw fit.
But she couldn’t run away. Not from this.
She picked it up and looked at Pine; his anxious face mirroring hers. She closed her eyes, took a quiet breath, and tore the envelope open. A large silver key fell out and landed in her lap. She left it there while she pulled out the note. Julia’s handwriting was immediately evident, so perfect it could have been generated by a printing press. When she looked at the note closer, the first two words immediately caught her eye, and seeing them made every cell in her body scream out in agonizing pain.
‘Dear Cam’
CHAPTER 25
With eyes that had already begun to swell, Camille thanked Pine and quickly left his office. She felt bad about the abrupt exit, but knew that if she had stayed any longer, Pine would have been stuck in the uncomfortable position of trying to console someone who was beyond consoling. Aside from not wanting to disrupt his day in such a fashion, there was no way she could allow herself to be that vulnerable with someone she had just met, no matter how positive her first impression of him was.
So she waited until she got to her car before reading the rest of the note. But when she got there she was once again hesitant. In an effort to stall, she took the key out of her pocket and studied it closely. It was unlike any she had ever seen, with a large ring and two small grooves on either end of a long, thin cylinder. The thought of what such a key might open unnerved her, and she suddenly questioned her desire to know. But she quickly pushed the thought aside. After taking a series of deep, measured breaths, she slowly unfolded the paper and continued reading.
Dear Cam,
I wrote this note fully intending that you
would never have to read it. Sounds kinda
dumb, right? It does to me too. Writing a
note to someone that you never want that
person to see. But in this case, it’s true.
I never wanted you to read it. Because
if you are, it means only one thing. And
right now that’s a scenario I can’t bear
to imagine. But it is one that I’m
obviously very fearful of.
I guess ‘sorry’ isn’t the appropriate word to
use, even though it’s the first one that comes
to mind. I’m sorry I put you in this position.
I’m sorry I wasn’t as forthright with you
as I should have been. I’m sorry I’m
not
there to fight a battle that is entirely
mine to fight. I’m sorry I’m not there to say
thank you for being the only reason I’ve
been able to make it this far.
Camille began to sob so loudly that she worried people walking down the street would hear and come rushing up to her car. She buried her head in her hands in an effort to muffle the noise. It didn’t work. Five long minutes passed before she could calm down long enough to continue reading.
A series of events have occurred over the past
six years that have led to this point; events that
I wasn’t able to explain to you in detail – either
because I didn’t have time to, or more likely
because I was afraid to. I can’t go into great
detail here, otherwise this letter would turn into
a novel, and we both know I’m not the world’s
greatest writer!
But the key I left is for a safe deposit box that I
opened in your name. Inside that box is a flash
disk. You’ll find everything you need there. I’m
sorry to say you won’t be happy when you learn
what’s on it, especially when you discover my
personal role in everything. But it was important
to tell you the entire truth; not only of the
situation that led to this, but also of
my unfortunate part in it. All I can say
is I hope you will eventually forgive
me. I understand there are bigger
things at stake than your forgiveness.
But I hope that when the smoke clears,
and with your involvement I’m confident
it will, forgiveness is a place you can
eventually get to.
The last thing I’ll say is that the people
who did this to me are very recognizable.
And they’re also very, very dangerous.
The things they are involved in go deeper
than even I understand. But their agenda
is clear. And it needs to be stopped. I said
earlier that I’m sorry I put you in this
position, and I am. This is something I
should have done myself. But I was too
afraid. And with good reason. But you’re
better than me. Stronger than me. Braver
than me. You always have been.
That’s why I’m trusting you to do what
I couldn’t. But please be careful doing it.
When you’re finished with them, make it
a point to nail their asses right to the wall!
Tough talk from a wimp, right?
The safe deposit box is located at the
First Western Bank on 17th and Broadway.
Get there as soon as you possibly can.
Once you see what’s inside, you’ll
understand my sense of urgency.
I love you so much Cam! And again,
I’m sorry.
~Jules
The letter was so overwhelming that Camille didn’t even attempt to process the words or what they meant. There would be plenty of time for that. Instead she chose to focus on the clear- cut instructions Julia had given her. Get there as soon as you possibly can. Once you see what’s inside, you’ll understand my sense of urgency.
But it wasn’t urgency but that made Camille peel out of her parking spot, speed though two red lights, and sprint mindlessly past everyone between her and the First Western Bank lobby.
It was anger.
CHAPTER 26
Screw you, Julia. Why didn’t you tell me? I could have helped you. I would have done anything to help you. Sixteen years and all I have left of you is this goddamn note and a safe deposit box key? After everything that’s happened? Why didn’t you just tell me? You selfish bitch.
Camille’s gasp echoed through the crowded bank. For the first time in her life, she genuinely hated herself. She knew those thoughts came from a place of anger and sadness and loss. But she never should have given voice to them. I’m so sorry. I swear I didn’t mean any of it.
She was on the verge of breaking down and knew that she needed to get whatever was inside that box and leave as soon as possible.
After a couple of minutes, a heavy set man in a seersucker suit approached her. “Ms. Grisham? My name is Raphael. I was told you’re here to open your safe deposit box.”
“Yes.”
Raphael consulted the piece of paper in his hand. “I see you are a co-signer on the box along with Julia Leeds.”
Camille nodded.
“Very good. If I can just see your ID, we can get you back there.”
Camille showed him her driver’s license, shaking with anticipation as she did.
“Thank you,” he said as he glanced at it and handed it back. “Right this way please.”
He led Camille past a row of tellers and executive offices into a long, narrow corridor that led to a set of double doors.
“And you have the key?” Raphael asked over his shoulder as he continued walking.
Camille pulled the key out of her pocket and held it up. “Yes.”
Once they reached the doors, Raphael punched in a code on a keypad above the door handle. A green light flashed and he pulled the handle.
“Right this way.”
They entered a large room that housed rows of safe deposit boxes as far as her eye could see. People stored all manner of valuables here: family heirlooms, expensive jewelry, and in Julia’s case, terrible secrets.
“Ms. Leeds was here just last week putting items in the box.” He paused as if waiting for a response. When Camille said nothing, he continued. “She’d been a customer of the bank for a long time, and a lot of us knew her quite well. Needless to say we were all devastated when we heard the news.”
Camille could only nod.
“Julia actually mentioned you a couple of times during that visit,” Raphael continued. “She said that after she finished she would be picking you up from the airport. Called you her bestie.” He said ‘bestie’ with the knowing smile of someone who had a lot of experience using the term. “She also said that you would likely be picking up the items in the box because most of them belonged to you.”
This was of course news to Camille, but she played along. “I just didn’t think I would be picking them up this soon.”
The man’s face took on a solemn expression. He was silent as they stopped in front of a box labeled 682 F. He fished in his coat pocket until he pulled out a key that looked exactly like the one Camille had.
“May I have your key please?”
Camille handed it to him and watched as he inserted it into a narrow slot. He then took his key and inserted it in the slot below. He turned both, opened the door and pulled out a short metal box. He set it on a table in front of them.
“Here you are, Ms. Grisham. If you have any questions or concerns I’ll be right over there.” He pointed to a chair and desk near the door they came through. His smile had returned.
“Thanks for your help, Raphael,” Camille answered, countering his smile with one of her own. Good soul, she thought about him, not really knowing why. The only thing she did know was that good souls were in very short supply these days.
He walked to his desk and sat down, leaving Camille alone with the box.
She stared at it for a long time. Since reading the letter she could think of nothing else except opening it. But suddenly she was afraid to. Her mind was flooded with so many possibilities that she hadn’t even tried to conceive of what could be inside. Now that she actually stood in front of it, her mind drifted to very dark places. Whatever was in here stood as a final testament to Julia’s life; something so valuable that it needed to live on even after she didn’t. Opening this box would bring finality to Julia’s life that Camille had managed to keep at a distance up to this point.
But there was something els
e that made her afraid; a thought she hadn’t been able to shake ever since she read the note.
Julia knew this was going to happen.
She knew it when she picked Camille up from the airport. She knew it when she insisted her problems could wait even though Camille knew otherwise. She knew it when she called Camille for the last time.
Julia’s reluctance to talk now made even less sense than it did before. If she was concerned enough to go through all of this trouble with the safe deposit box and the envelope, why didn’t she say anything? Of anyone she knew, Camille would have been in the best position to help her; not by retrieving some information from a safe deposit box after she was dead, but by going after whoever was trying to hurt her while she was alive. The Circle Killer and the psychological trauma he caused be damned. Camille would have faced down ten Daniel Sykes’ if that’s what it took to protect her best friend.
But she wouldn’t get that chance now. Julia was dead. And Camille was left with the now all too familiar feeling of knowing she could have done something to prevent it. Her sadness once again turned to anger.
Camille held her breath as she reached for the latch.
Five… four… three… two… one …
Then she closed her eyes, slowly exhaled, and lifted the lid.
CHAPTER 27
The first thing Camille saw was a legal sized piece of paper folded into quarters. She took it out of the box and unfolded it, immediately recognizing Julia’s handwriting again. There were three short paragraphs of text followed by a long list of bulleted items. Unsure that she could trust her reaction, Camille resisted the urge to read more closely.
She set the paper on the table and turned back to the box. The only other item inside was a sealed envelope that looked a lot like the one Julia had left with Laurence Pine. She picked it up and felt something hard and rectangular shaped inside.
Not feeling ready to open the envelope, she set it next to the paper, closed the box and called for Raphael.
The Strategist Page 17