by Vivien Chien
I sighed. “It’ll have to. I’m sure I can find a ride to work until I get it back.”
He tipped his hat and got back in the truck, maneuvering around my car so he could tow it out. I watched him pull away with it and all I could see were dollar signs trailing after the truck. Whoever this person was, they were really getting on my bad side.
* * *
Half an hour later, I was standing in front of an unexceptional brick building that overlooked the East Bank of the Flats, Cleveland’s riverfront district. There was a small, gated parking area on the back side of the building. Rina had given me the code, and I pressed the cold metal numbers in the order she’d given me. The gate screeched open and I pulled my car into the only available spot.
The lot maybe had eight parking spaces, and they were all filled with high-end model cars. I parked in between a Mercedes and a Corvette. One day, Lana, one day.
I had passed this building so many times on my way into the Flats, but I’d never known what was inside, always mistaking it for an old office building of some sort.
Rina was standing in the entryway waiting for me, and gave me an eager wave as I came into view. She nudged the door open. “I can’t thank you enough for helping me so last-minute like this.” She gestured to the stairs, and I followed her up two flights.
“It’s no problem, really.” I said. “Sorry I’m a little later than I told you I’d be. I had to call a tow truck.”
“Oh no! What happened?”
“Long story.” I decided to spare her the details. She had enough to worry about already.
She pulled out a ring of keys, found the right one, and stuck it in the lock. “I don’t expect to finish today. She had more stuff than I realized … everything is different than I thought, actually. Yesterday, we spent more time cleaning up broken glass than anything else. I hardly had a chance to go through her things.”
“Broken glass? I thought you said the fire escape window was open?”
“Oh, it was, but whoever did this managed to shatter every vase, picture frame, and breakable object they could find.”
“Unbelievable! The timing can’t be a coincidence.”
“Tell me about it. And there’s no way to tell what they were searching for because we don’t know what was here to begin with.” She put her hands on her hips and scanned the room. “Anyhow, I thought today I could at least go through some of her personal effects … I have no idea what we’ll do with all this furniture. I’m looking for some places that will come pick it up for free. Constance asked if I wanted it, but I don’t have a use for any of it.”
“What about Brandon’s family?” I asked, following her in. “Don’t they want anything?”
I would have heard her answer, but I was too in awe of the apartment that we walked into. I don’t know what I thought their living situation was; I guess I figured it would be similar to my own. I imagined they would live in a reasonable two-bedroom apartment with that same dreadful carpet and bland eggshell wall. Boy, was I wrong.
What I stepped into was Cleveland luxury at its finest. The hardwood floors gleamed in the rays of light coming in from the giant picture windows facing the Flats. The living space was wide open with an exposed kitchen entirely composed of stainless-steel appliances and marble countertops. The bedrooms and bathroom were at the far end of the room with no hallway separating them from the common area.
Even with the recent break-in, the place was incredible.
“Wow…” I said, my eyes traveling over the art adorning the walls. “I never thought…”
“I know,” Rina said, dropping the keys into a dish on the table. “It’s not Izzy’s style at all, it’s Brandon’s. His New York apartment was very similar to this one.”
I stepped farther into the apartment, absorbing the surroundings. It definitely felt “big city.” “I can’t imagine how much they were paying for this place,” I said, my hand running along the exposed brick walls. “This had to cost a fortune.”
“I have no idea where they got the money for this. With the way their finances were, this place was totally out of their budget. Constance met with the landlord to discuss the break-in, and I overheard them talking prices. Let’s just say you and I couldn’t afford this if we put our incomes together.” Rina headed to one of the doors. “This one was their bedroom. I figured I’d start packing up her clothes. Do you know of a charity I could donate them to?”
“Yeah, I can drop them off for you if you want. Save you the trouble.”
“That’d be great.”
She disappeared into the bedroom and I moved into the kitchen, inspecting all of the appliances. They were a far cry from our beat-up little kitchen with its old fixtures. How on earth would the two of them be able to afford an apartment like this with the money they made at the souvenir shop—a struggling new business no less? Add in Brandon’s gambling problem, and it was a miracle they’d been paying rent at all.
Rina clanked around in the bedroom, focused on the project she was starting. Since she wasn’t paying me any attention, I decided to check out what was behind door number two.
Turned out to be a home office. There was a desktop computer and a printer, with several books stacked in two neat rows next to the keyboard. On top of one pile, there was a Post-it that read TBR … and my heart dropped thinking about how Isabelle would never get the chance to conquer her to-be-read pile.
I couldn’t help but rifle through the pile. The books she had stacked were from one of our recent book outings. I remembered helping her choose between the next Sue Grafton and a new Michael Connelly. Unable to decide, she’d bought both.
I flipped through the pages of the top book and a blue slip of paper flew out, landing underneath the desk. I got down on my hands and knees, hunting for the paper. It read Bobby and was in Isabelle’s handwriting. It had a local phone number on it.
Hm, who was Bobby? I couldn’t remember her mentioning anyone by that name, and she’d told me several times over that she didn’t have a lot of friends in the area. Between being a newlywed and running the store, her life revolved around Brandon and the plaza. Everyone she knew or met had some association with Asia Village.
I flipped through the rest of the book pages but found no other notes. My eyes traveled to the bookcases that lined the wall next to the desk. One note in a book did not justify anything exciting, but if Isabelle was anything like me there were more things to be found.
I flipped through several paperbacks but came up empty-handed.
“Hey, are you doing okay in there?” Rina yelled from the other room. “Are you bored?”
I stuffed the paper in my pant pocket and went to join Rina in the bedroom. “No, I’m fine, just digging through some of Isabelle’s books.”
“I’ve never met anyone who has as many books as my sister.” Rina laughed. “That girl loved to read.”
“That’s because you hadn’t met me yet,” I said with a chuckle. “I’m just as bad, if not worse.”
“Do you want her books? I’m just planning on donating them anyhow. You could go through them and see if there’s anything you want. I’m sure she’d want you to have them.”
“Maybe … I’m not sure I would be able to read them knowing they were hers. I don’t do well with sentimental things like that.”
She nodded in agreement. “I’m the same way. My parents asked me if I wanted any of her things … I’ve put aside some stuff, but it’s hard to look at any of it right now.”
“One day you’ll be glad you kept those things.”
“True enough. Also—you know what’s strange to me? Everyone around here calls her Isabelle.” She closed up a box and taped it shut. “She’s always been Izzy to me.”
“Maybe she thought it sounded more mature for a business owner?”
“It’s possible … I’m starting to feel like I didn’t even know her anymore.”
I looked around their bedroom while Rina fumbled around in the closet with shoes. T
here were a few wedding photos and some pictures of family hanging on the wall. They were all pictures of Isabelle and her family, and nothing with Brandon or his. “What did you say about Brandon’s family earlier?”
“Oh … they weren’t interested in his things. They told Constance and me to throw it all away. They agreed to pay for whatever rent was left on the apartment, but they didn’t want any of his things.”
“Don’t you think that’s weird? Wouldn’t his parents want some kind of memento of his?”
“Not really.” Rina started a new box, filling them with shoes. “I think they were embarrassed by him at this point.”
“But he was their only son.”
She shrugged. “If you met them, you’d know that type of thing doesn’t matter to them. Personally, I think they had a kid because that’s the thing you’re supposed to do after you get married. They’re not exactly what you’d call parenting types.”
After another hour of packing up clothing, shoes, and random accessories, Rina and I packed up the cars. I took all of the clothing bags and told her I would drop them off at a Salvation Army.
“Thanks again for your help,” she said before getting into her car. “After yesterday, I didn’t want to be in there alone. What if that person who broke in decided to come back? And why did they break in to begin with? Do you think they were looking for that missing money?”
I shrugged. “It’s possible. It’s also possible there was some kind of evidence in the apartment that tied them to Brandon and Isabelle that they wanted to get rid of.” I thought about the slip of paper in my pocket and the mysterious Bobby.
Rina shivered. “Either way, that apartment doesn’t sit well with me.”
“I don’t blame you,” I said, looking up at the building. “I can’t imagine what it would feel like to clean out my sister’s apartment.”
“Just hope you never have to.”
* * *
On my way home, I dropped the clothes off at a Salvation Army bin in a grocery store parking lot. While I was there, I searched around for a pay phone. Without thinking, I had almost called the number I’d found from my own phone. Thankfully I had thought twice about that.
I was a little surprised to find a pay phone near the entrance of the grocery store. Fifty cents to make a call—when the heck did that happen? I dug around in my car for some change and dialed the numbers carefully onto the keypad.
I waited. But there was no answer. After it rang for what felt like an eternity, a computerized voice repeated the number and told me to leave a message. When the beep sounded, I stared at the receiver, my mind blank. I quickly hung up. I could try again later.
When I got to the apartment, Megan was on the couch working on her blanket. Kikko lay next to her chewing on a bone. She was so enthralled that she didn’t even get up to greet me. Traitor.
“What happened at the apartment?” Megan asked, shifting her eyes back and forth between me and the blanket.
“Not a whole lot. You should have seen this place, though.” I filled Megan in on the lavish apartment I hadn’t expected to be visiting.
“Wow. So, wait … if Brandon was cut off from his family, and Isabelle knew that, wouldn’t she wonder where the money came from to get that apartment?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. And it’s not like we can ask her anything. Maybe he lied about having money stashed away? Maybe he did have money stashed away. Adam does seem to think that the money he won that night is being hidden somewhere.”
“Well, did you find anything interesting while you were there?”
I showed her the slip of paper. “This number … it could be something, or it could be nothing.”
She squinted to read the handwriting. “Bobby? Did you try calling it?”
“Yeah, no answer … and no personalized voice mail.”
Feeling semi-defeated by a bust of an afternoon, I decided to check my Facebook messages and see if anyone had gotten back to me. I had to do a double take when I realized that Jay Coleman had finally responded to me. Success!
He’d left a number and told me I could call him anytime. And since I was in this whole “the time is now” thing, I dialed his number without hesitation.
“Nice to hear from you, Lana,” Jay said after I introduced myself. “It’s always good to hear from one of Brandon’s friends. He told me that you and his wife were quite the pair.”
“Yeah, I suppose we were,” I replied. “I loved Isabelle, she was a great gal.”
“She was indeed,” he answered. “Especially after that nightmare of an ex-wife.”
“Yeah, I’ve witnessed the wrath of Constance a few times so far. Not the most pleasant of people.”
He snorted. “Ha! Constance was a saint compared with the other one.”
“I’m sorry?” I replied with confusion. “The other one?”
“You know, Marcia … or as we liked to call her, Manic Marcia.” Jay laughed. “Now, she is a real piece of work.”
CHAPTER
23
“I thought for sure she’d be at the funeral,” Jay admitted. “No one was more surprised than me that she didn’t show. I even bet money with one of my friends that she would be flailing over the casket before the day was over.”
“You were there? I don’t remember seeing you.”
“I had a business trip I could not get out of … which is why I couldn’t get back to you right away. Sorry about that, by the way. Anyhow, I was there for the wake and then had to fly out that evening.”
“Marcia told me she stayed away because of Constance. She didn’t want to create waves.”
“Ha! That would have more likely gone the other way,” Jay told me. “Constance is big and scary when she’s got her lawyer with her, but she’s got nothing when it comes to battling a crazy person. She’s way too civilized for that.”
“She did slap her sister at the funeral…” I relayed the story about Constance and Victoria hashing it out after the burial.
Jay whistled. “That surprises me. It’s not like Constance to get physical.”
I was floored by all of this. I hadn’t seen any of it coming. The whole time I had been focusing more on everything and everyone but her. “So tell me more about Marcia.”
“I might as well fly back to Cleveland for that,” he joked. “How much time do you have?”
For the next thirty minutes, Jay went through his rendition of the “quick version” of Brandon and Marcia’s whirlwind relationship. It turned out that Brandon had gone for Marcia completely for her money, and used her to live the lifestyle he’d become accustomed to while married to Constance. And apparently, he hadn’t hidden his intentions very well.
Eventually, he tired of the “too easy” relationship and sent Marcia packing. Unfortunately for him, she didn’t want to let go so easily. She’d kept in close contact with him after their divorce and even tried winning him back a few times. All to no avail.
By the time he’d met Isabelle, it was too late. He was smitten with her and talked about turning his life around. You would have thought that Marcia would get the clue, but instead, to keep herself in the picture she’d played the supportive card and helped the newlywed couple any way that she could. She claimed to only be interested in Brandon for friendship, continuously going on about how her main wish was to see him happy. She’d even gone as far as paying for their living arrangements and their move to Cleveland—and of course she’d loaned the money for the souvenir shop. All of this had taken place without Isabelle having a single clue. Brandon had worried that if Isabelle knew how much financial help he’d taken from his ex-wife, she might not stick around.
My heart ached for my unknowing friend. If she’d known any of the secrets going on behind her back, things might have turned out differently. But that’s something you can never know. There was no sense in me going down the road of “what if.”
“So that about sums it up,” Jay said.
“Wow,” I said, still dumbfound
ed. “I don’t really know what to say.”
He chuckled. “That’s most people’s reaction. You don’t come across someone like Marcia every day.”
“Something to be thankful for. It explains a lot, though. I just saw their apartment earlier this afternoon and I couldn’t figure out where the money came from to pay for it.”
“I hope you’re not planning on adding this to your story. It’s a little too colorful for a memorial dedication in my opinion.”
“Huh?”
“The Marcia and Brandon situation … I hope you’re not going to put that in your little newsletter. It wouldn’t make Brandon look the best. And Marcia would know that I was the one who squealed. I wouldn’t put it past her to come after me.”
“Oh, right,” I said. I’d forgotten for a moment what he was talking about. “No, of course not. I’ll keep that part between you and me.”
“If you think of it, send me a copy. I’d really love to read it.”
“Sure thing.” Yeah right. Hopefully he’d forget about it in a few days.
“Is there anything else you’d like to know?” he asked.
I couldn’t think of anything else to ask so I suggested he tell me anything he thought might be helpful for my fake article.
He went on a little bit about Brandon’s life in New York, which I hardly paid attention to. I made the appropriate “uh-huh” and “oh yeah” sounds when they seemed fitting. But I couldn’t help thinking about how Marcia had played us all. She was good. She had successfully convinced all of us that she was the good one by lying about her entire relationship with Brandon. And who were we to know the difference?
Before we hung up, he extended the same offer that Victoria had about contacting him with further questions. He wished me well on my article and I thanked him for his time.
I sat back in my chair and took a minute to absorb this new information. There was something in this whole mess. I just had to figure out what it was.
CHAPTER
24
Monday morning came before I knew what happened. I stood in front of my closet with my eyes half closed, searching for something decent and clean to wear. With all the commotion over the weekend, I’d forgotten to do laundry.