Your Eyes Don't Lie

by Branton, Rachel

  Makay had to agree, yet the fact that Sally had so much money in the bank while she’d lived at that dump and let Makay support her with groceries was a little too much to digest. “How much did she leave me?” Makay felt light-headed as she asked the question.

  “Well, I don’t know that.” Janice made a disapproving click with her tongue. “That fancy attorney knocked on everyone’s doors. I told him to leave yours under your door and that I’d call to let you know about it. After he left, I let myself in with your key and got it to make sure it was safe. But of course I didn’t pry. Now are you going to come and get it or not? I mean, I can open it for you, but you’ll need the letter anyway to collect your money from the bank.”

  “I’m coming right now.” With renewed energy, Makay started her car. If it was a thousand dollars, it would be enough with even a partial tuition refund to get her into a rental somewhere far away from Lenny and Harrison. From there, she’d find a job waitressing or digging ditches. Whatever it took to keep Nate safe.

  “Where are we going?” Nate bounced in the passenger seat next to her, his feet hitting a box that was still on the floor.

  “Back to our old apartment. Sally left a letter for us.”

  “Sally?”

  Makay put her car back into park and reached for his hands “Yes, I’ve been waiting to tell you, but you know how old Sally is right?”

  “Like two hundred or something.”

  “Or something. Well, earlier this week, she went back to heaven.”

  His face crunched with concern. “You mean she died?”

  “Yes.”

  “Oh.” He sighed. “I think I’m going to miss her.”

  “We both will.” She held onto his hands for a few minutes longer, searching for signs of distress, but he’d seemed to take it more easily than she had. “Anyway,” she added, “Sally loved us all so much that she left us a little bit of money.”

  “Us?”

  “You and me, Janice, Ted, and some of the others.”

  Nate’s eyes widened. “How much did she leave me?”

  “I don’t know. But I’m sure she left both of ours to me since I’m the one who pays everything, and it’s probably just a little. She can’t have had that much money.”

  “Is that why we always gave her food? Because she didn’t have money?”

  “Yeah.”

  What if Sally left us more than a thousand? After all, the woman probably owed her more than a thousand dollars for all the groceries she’d bought over the past two years. No, I can’t hope that. Anything she gave us will be enough. It has to be.

  Makay’s head and arm were hurting so much when she arrived at the apartment that she had to take another pain pill and wait fifteen minutes before she was able to get out of the car. Janice opened the door on the first ring, as if she’d been waiting on the other side. She took in Makay’s ruined face and broken arm with an astonished gasp.

  “What happened to you?” Her spotted face darkened. “It was that boyfriend of yours, wasn’t it?”

  “No. Not him. I was in . . . an accident at a park.” Makay glanced down at Nate to make sure he didn’t say anything or equate “boyfriend” with Harrison. She’d asked him not to tell anyone what happened, but whether or not he’d follow through remained to be seen.

  “Well, no wonder you didn’t want to come over tonight. You should be in bed.” Janice hurried her over to a brown couch with huge blue floral swirls that must have been popular before Makay had been old enough to remember such things.

  “I’m fine.”

  “Sure you are.” Janice clicked her tongue, her gaze going to Nate. “I have some of your favorite cookies in the kitchen.”

  Nate grinned. “Thanks!”

  Janice ruffled his hair. “You’re welcome. You know where the cookie jar is on the counter. Help yourself.” She sat down beside Makay as Nate hurried away. “I’m guessing there’s more to this so-called accident,” she said in a low voice, “but you can tell me later when Nate’s not here.”

  More lies to make up. Makay felt weary just thinking about it.

  “Here.” Janice scooped up an envelope from the coffee table, and Makay saw her full name typed on the outside: Makayla Greyson.

  She wished she could hobble out to the car and open it in privacy, but Janice’s eyes were bright with curiosity. “Well, go on, open it,” she urged. “She better make it good after all you did for her.” She looked up at the ceiling. “Hear that, Sally? You better make this good.”

  “She didn’t have to leave anything.” Makay wedged her finger under the flap.

  “She did so. Living off all of us like that.” Janice rolled her eyes. “When I get to heaven, I’m gonna give her a piece of my mind.” She laughed. “Of course that doesn’t mean I ain’t going to enjoy the money. I’ve decided to take a plane to see my son in Florida. Been waiting a long time to see my grandbabies there, you know.”

  A single sheet of paper nestled inside the envelope, all typed and neat. Makay scanned the letter quickly. Below all the lawyerese a paragraph in bold was a note directly from Sally. “Makay, thanks for taking care of me, dear. If I’d had a daughter, I would want her to be just like you.”

  Tears filled Makay’s eyes as she pondered the old woman’s words. Strange how all her life Makay had been searching for a mother who didn’t want her, and here was a daughterless woman who had considered her worthy of being related. She wished she’d known how Sally had felt about her while she was alive, when there had been time to explore a closer relationship that might have benefitted them both.

  “Oh, my!” Janice said, reading over her shoulder. “Ha! Ten thousand dollars! No wonder her son is in such a tizzy.” She sat back against the couch, her broad shoulders looking even wider as she threw out her arms and stared up at the ceiling. “Great, Sally. You really did good this time!”

  Makay’s heart nearly stopped beating when her eyes finally found the words that detailed the amount of her inheritance. Janice was right. Ten thousand dollars. To her it meant the gift of a new life.

  “Oh, don’t cry,” Janice said, handing her a tissue. “You’re supposed to be happy, remember? This will help you get through college and take care of Nate. I’m so happy I could burst. I was thinking of helping you myself if she didn’t come through. Good old Sally. Always knew I loved that woman.”

  That was at least the second time Janice had repeated those exact words, but Makay felt herself echoing them. “So I can get this now, right?”

  “Absolutely. Or rather, in the morning when the bank opens. That’s how Sally made it happen. If you want, you can get the money before the funeral, which, by the way, is tomorrow morning. You’ll be there, right?”

  “Of course.” Makay looked over to the part of the kitchen she could see from the couch, the setup a mirror image of her own apartment. Nate stood there uncertainly, half a cookie in his hand. “Don’t worry,” Makay told him. “It’s good news. Sally left us a bunch of money. I’m crying because I’m happy.”

  “Really?” Nate came running over. “Show me!” Makay pointed out the numbers on the page and listened to him ooh and aah over them. “Wow, now I’m sorry I kept laughing about her and that chili,” he said.

  “Don’t be.” Makay pushed herself slowly to her feet. “That’s a good memory of her that we can keep forever.”

  “What’s this about chili?” Janice asked.

  Laughter bubbled from Nate’s throat. “It made Sally fart.”

  Janice blinked. “Well, of course it did,” she said. “It makes me pass gas too.” Nate laughed harder at that.

  “Thanks,” Makay said to Janice over his head. “You can’t know what this means to us.”

  Janice stood and looked down at Nate. “Maybe I do a little. But see that you don’t tell anyone else how much you got, okay? I only told you and Ted myself. Don’t want any bad feelings, you know. Don’t worry about me. I’ll keep the secret.”

  Makay felt even more weep
y at that. Had to be the painkiller. “I’d better get home.”

  “And go right to bed. Or do you have more studying to do?”

  She would have had a lot of homework if she’d planned to continue the classes, but since she didn’t, it made no sense to expend the effort. “Not tonight. But we have a big day tomorrow.”

  “That’s right. The funeral is at ten.”

  “I’ll see you then.”

  Makay hurried to her car as fast as her sore body would allow. Inside, Nate began looking through the box on the floor, taking out a few cans. “Somehow I feel like eating chili tonight,” he said softly.

  “Okay.”

  A vision of the canned tomatoes Harrison had thrown at her feet in the club came to her mind. Still in her backpack probably. Maybe she could dump them in the chili and be done with the memories once and for all.

  She gave a sharp nod as everything came together in her mind. In the morning, she’d repack, leaving behind items that wouldn’t fit in the car. She would also gather all the evidence she had on Lenny and put it in an envelope. Then she’d go to the bank with her required two forms of ID, and from there, she’d drive to the funeral. After a stop at the college to ask about a refund for dropping out, she’d leave the envelope with the evidence in Lily’s mailbox—addressed to Harrison. When that was all taken care of, she’d kiss this state and Lenny goodbye forever.

  And Harrison. That thought hurt more than she wanted to admit.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  On Thursday Harrison worked through lunch, downing something from the vending machine in the employee breakroom when his stomach protested. Giving the company the extra time was the least he could do since his work had suffered these past few days with his preoccupation. Somehow, even with his focus, he still managed to call Makay several more times, and Lily as well. Neither returned his messages.

  After work, he drove by the Albertsons where he and Makay had first met. No sign of her car. Then he drove to Mesa and her old apartment building. Again, nothing. What else to do but go home? There had been no more word from the blackmailers about the impending meeting tomorrow, which didn’t surprise him. Makay was probably worried about going through with the plan now. Bitterness filled his throat. Why did he even care? He’d been used and that was that.

  He was standing in the kitchen staring blankly into the refrigerator when his phone rang. He dived to the counter for it. “Hello?” he said without checking the caller ID.

  “Hi, it’s Lily.”

  He plopped onto a stool near the counter. “Did you hear from her?”

  “Yes. That’s why I called. Wanted you to know I’d talked to her.”

  “Where is she?”

  A long pause. “I’m not telling you that.”

  “Why?”

  “She asked me not to.”

  Hurt filled him. Ridiculous hurt that made no sense. After all, he’d been thinking about reporting her to the police. “Well, is she okay? Can you tell me that much?” Lily didn’t reply right off, and his heartbeat pounded out each second of delay.

  “No. I don’t think so. She sounded weird when I talked to her, and that’s why I finally decided to call you, even though I’m pretty sure she would be angry if she knew.”

  “What do you mean by finally? When did you talk to her?”

  “Around noon. She was . . . traveling.”

  “Is she coming back?”

  “I hope so.”

  “When?”

  Lily sighed. “Look, I don’t have any more information. But I’ve known Makay for years, and she sounded bad.”

  “Bad how? Sick?”

  “Yeah, and not only that. She sounded”—again the sigh—“like she was saying goodbye. Look, I shouldn’t have called you. I only did because you seemed genuinely worried yesterday. I also wanted to tell you that if you hurt Makay, I’ll hurt you.”

  Her vehemence took Harrison off guard. “You’re threatening me?”

  “Someone’s got to look out for Makay. Whatever you think, you don’t know all the truth, and that means we’ve both been lousy friends because I don’t know it either.” Another lengthy pause. “And don’t think for a minute that this lets you off the hook for my alarm.” Her voice was choked. Was she crying?

  “I’ll be there,” he growled. If Lily still trusted him for that, maybe all wasn’t lost. “Now can you tell me where she is?”

  “I’m not exactly sure, but if I did know, I wouldn’t tell you.”

  Her honesty was refreshing. “She’s at Brette’s, isn’t she? What’s her address?”

  “See you next week.” The line went dead.

  Harrison suppressed an urge to throw the phone across the room. Instead, he went to his laptop in a corner of his kitchen. He had to be able to find Brette’s information somehow on that machine. Problem was, he really didn’t even know where to start. The nearest he’d ever been to private investigating was that guy he’d contacted on the Internet to help find his father. Of course, that had ended up being a huge waste of money since his birth father was dead. Too bad he hadn’t known that a few months ago when he’d run across the guy’s Internet site. Next time the investigator emailed an invoice, Harrison would tell him where to go.

  He frowned at the computer and typed in Brette’s name. Silvan was her last name, though he wasn’t sure he had the right spelling. After ten minutes of scrolling through useless obituaries and sports articles, he typed in the URL of the adoption site. The guy he’d hired to find his father might be a lousy investigator, but maybe he had an idea how to find a simple local person. The site loaded slowly, a sure sign of inferior design. I should have known.

  Harrison’s disgust turned to horror as the website finished loading. There, in full color was a picture of the rat-faced man he’d seen with Makay. Under his picture were the words I Will Find Your Birth Parents! slicing across the screen in flashing letters.

  For a long moment Harrison didn’t know what to think. He’d been so sure Makay was responsible for setting his mother’s blackmail into motion, even if it turned out she wasn’t calling the shots. Sure that she had somehow rigged their meeting at Albertsons so she could keep tabs on the blackmail. Yet he’d communicated with this man months before he’d moved back to Phoenix. Months before he met Makay.

  I knew he looked familiar. But how did that fit into everything?

  Only Makay could tell him.

  Brette, Harrison thought. She’s the answer. He remembered something Lily had said about Brette living in her mother’s house since her recent death. Somewhere online there had to be a notice with her full name, and from there he might be able to find her address in the phone book. Better yet, the real estate agent he’d worked with to buy his apartment had mentioned that she could look up people to see if they owed property tax or had liens against their house, which allowed her to make sure her offers were realistic and more likely to be accepted. Maybe the commission she’d earned from his purchase would be enough to buy him Brette’s address.

  He found the article detailing the funeral. When a call to the funeral home didn’t result in an address, he called the real estate agent. In a few clicks of a mouse, she had the information for him. “You’d better not be a stalker.”

  “No, really, I’m not. I just want to make things up to my girlfriend.” He was surprised at how the words slipped from his mouth. Maybe because they were true.

  “Well, I’ve known your family for a long time—or your mother anyway. She has nothing but good things to say about you. I hope it all works out. And if it does and you need a bigger place—”

  “I’ll know who to call. Thanks.” He hung up and ran for the door.

  It took only fifteen minutes to get to Brette’s house, a short time in the car, but a world of difference in neighborhoods. The area was much older, and some of the small stucco houses had certainly seen better days, but Brette’s immediate neighbors’ yards were well-kept and a group of kids were playing soccer in the street.
There was no sign of Makay’s Sebring, unless it was in the small garage, and he doubted that.

  Twenty minutes later, Brette pulled up and parked her car in front of the garage. The automatic door rose slowly, revealing a space cramped with furniture and boxes. No room for any car there. She disappeared inside, the garage shutting behind her. Harrison’s attention returned to watching the kids’ soccer game. He wondered if they could use a goalie.

  It was near seven thirty when Makay’s Sebring finally came down the road. Harrison rescued a ball from a near goal and gave his spot to another player before hurrying toward the car. Makay froze as she saw him, halfway out of her seat, but Nate ran around the car toward him.

  “I thought that was you playing. Cool save!” He held out his hand for Harrison to slap it.

  “Thanks, buddy.” Harrison gave the boy five but scarcely internalized his words. He was too busy staring at Makay as she finished getting out of the car. Her left eye was swollen almost shut and lined with dark purple. A clear bandage on her cheek and another on her forehead did little to hide neat rows of stitches. Perhaps even more telling, she moved with a painful slowness that belied her usual grace. Anger built inside him.

  “I was hoping to see you today,” Nate added. “Makay and I’ve been in Colorado Springs.”

  Harrison struggled to remain calm. “Colorado Springs, huh? That’s a long drive.”

  “Yeah, tell me about it.” Nate heaved a sigh. “It took forever.”

  Harrison stepped toward Makay, who was standing behind her still open door and seemed to be using it as a shield or maybe to support herself. “Who did this to you? Was it that guy? Your friend?”

  Makay ignored him and turned to her brother. “You know what, Nate? I bet Snoop is as hungry as a lion, don’t you think? Brette might not have remembered to feed him. Maybe you’d better run and check.” She held out her keys.