by J. L. Wilson
I stripped off the clothing Bell had bought me, dropping it on the double bed before consulting my closet. I pulled out a lightweight blue-and-dark-blue striped sweater and dark navy jeans and grabbed a pair of flats from the jumble in the bottom of the closet.
I came downstairs in ten minutes, just as Athos was finishing a dinner of canned tuna on one of Mom’s saucers in the kitchen. “I normally don’t give him tuna,” I said to Bell, who was peering into the fridge. “And he has his own dishes.”
“He’s had a tough day. He deserves a treat. I think I’ll reheat some pizza when I get back here. Some of those casseroles look good, too. You don’t mind if I heat one up, do you? Jason and his guys will probably be hungry.” Bell straightened and closed the door. Athos took this as a sign that no more food was forthcoming and he sauntered off to sit in the dining room and bathe.
“I don’t mind if you eat every casserole in there. The church ladies brought enough to feed an army. How many guys is he bringing?”
“Two. Jason is worth three guys by himself.”
“Are we going to tell the police we had a break-in?” I asked.
“I like that,” Bell said with a smile. “I like that ‘we’ you’re talking about.”
“Quit diverting me. Shouldn’t this be reported?” I gestured toward the bedroom, unseen behind the wall behind me.
Bell put a hand on my arm. “Yes, it should be, but I want Jason to look at it before I call in the police. He’ll be here in a few minutes, so let’s get you to your aunt’s place. I want to swing by the hotel and get the notebooks then meet Jason here.”
We went outside to Bell’s new SUV. “That sedan is gone,” I said when I tried to climb into the passenger side. “I need a ladder to get into this car,” I grumbled.
“Don’t complain. If I need to, I can use it as a battering ram.”
We drove the few blocks to the assisted living facility, located not far from the hospital and the hotel. “I’ll call you when we’re wrapping up.” I leaned over the console to kiss him.
“Don’t wait for me out here alone.” He looked at the long driveway in front of the building. “If you need to wait, make sure to have a cousin or two with you.”
“Will do.” I paused before sliding out of the SUV. “Thanks, Bell.”
He winked. “It’s what I do, Wendy. I manage things. Go on ahead and spend time with your family. Everything else can wait.”
He was right, of course. It was time to focus on the real reason I was here in town. I was here for Mom. I went into the apartment building to be surrounded by family for the next three hours. I was initially swamped with questions about the car accident, but I managed to downplay it all except to Aunt Jane, who watched me with a sharp eye while I told what had happened. I didn’t dare mention the ransacking of Mom’s house because that would have caused even more fuss.
Thankfully, talk soon turned to Mom’s death, the funeral, and other family members no longer with us. It was a bittersweet reunion because I hadn’t seen many of these cousins since the last death in the family, a cousin who died three years previously. We spent the time looking at photographs, talking, and exchanging stories from our childhoods.
Aunt Jane drew me aside when people were starting to leave. “There’s more to this than you’re telling, isn’t there?”
I knew there was no way to evade the truth with her. “It was bad, Aunt Jane. Bell and I were pushed into a ditch filled with water. If two reporters hadn’t followed us, I’m not sure what would have happened.”
She wrapped her bony fingers around my wrist and held on with surprising strength. “Your mother and your father did everything they could to protect you. I hate to think that all their efforts were in vain all these years later.”
I put my hand over hers and squeezed it. “Bell won’t let anything happen to me.”
She smiled so smugly that I laughed. She laughed, too. “I told you, Wendy Davis. I told you that man would come back into your life. I’m glad you have the good sense to grab him and hold on.”
“I’m not sure how long I’ll hold him, but it’s good to have him here.”
She looked at me quizzically. “What’s that mean?”
“It just means that I’m not going to plan on a future with someone when I’m in the middle of all this.” I raised my hands, taking in my cousins, the scrapbooks, and the memories. I kissed her on one smooth cheek. She smelled of powder and lavender, scents that reminded me of my mother. I put my arms around her and we stood in wordless sympathy.
“Well, don’t discount how you feel. It’s real, I know it is. You get some rest tonight,” she said. “Tomorrow will be a hard day. Don’t worry about me. One of the kids will get me to the funeral home for the service. You take care of yourself and take care of Tom.”
“I think we’re supposed to be there at ten-thirty. The service starts at eleven.” I wondered if I had forgotten anything that I was supposed to do. I hadn’t even looked at my cell phone lately. I almost pulled it out there to check for messages, but I decided it could wait a few minutes.
Jane patted my arm. “You go, now. Get some sleep. I’ll see you at the funeral home tomorrow.” She turned to a cousin who was departing and I left, darting into the main lobby where I called Bell.
“We’re on our way,” he said when I told him the dinner was wrapping up.
“Some of the cousins are walking to the hotel. Why don’t I just go with them and we’ll meet there?”
“Do you want to stay there tonight or here at your mom’s house?” he asked.
“Did you call the police? Can I stay there or is it a crime scene?” I countered.
“The police have come and gone. I’ll fill you in when I see you. Let’s meet at the hotel. Just make damn sure you don’t walk alone.”
“No problem. I have a herd of cousins right here. I’ll see you there in a few minutes. I’ll wait for you in the lobby.” I tucked my phone back into my purse and fell into step with four of my cousins.
It was a glorious night, breezy with a hint of coolness that brought with it the redolent smells of springtime. An almost-full moon was rising, barely seen through the leafed-out trees lining the sidewalks. This was the ‘old’ part of town and there were still stately Victorian houses with equally stately trees shading them, giving our stroll the feeling of a walk back in time.
Being with my cousins only reinforced that sense of timelessness. How many times did we all get together as children and run around town together? Take our bikes and ride to the swimming pool? Go to the Teen Center and hang out, listening to records? We had ties together that had been stretched by time but not broken. It was reassuring to know I’d have them with me tomorrow, when I had to say good-bye to Mom.
In so many ways my past was fast overtaking me here. Bell had showed up again in my life. Peter might be out there somewhere. I had become reacquainted with the Lost Boys. My cousins were all here, my secondary family, people who had been through so many deaths with me in the past. I thought I was alone, but I wasn’t. Even though we were separated by distance, I would always have friends and family.
Bell was a friend who had ties as strong as family ones. I still couldn’t quite reconcile my memories of Bell from high school with this take-charge, wealthy man who seemed to be in control no matter what the situation. When our car went over the edge, he thought about me. I was so stunned I couldn’t move, but Bell had the presence of mind to get out of his seat belt and protect me. When we were in the ditch and the water was creeping in, he was calm and reasoned, figuring out a solution even as the dirty muck edged higher and higher.
But he had always been like that. The realization settled over me while we neared the hotel, coming up on our right. Bell was one of those people who dreamed impossible dreams and he made them happen. He worked at it and he reasoned it out and he figured out a way to make things work. That probably explained why he was a millionaire and I was plodding along making eighty-thousand a year. He took
chances and I didn’t.
Another realization followed quickly. I did love Bell, but I couldn’t envision a future with him. I just couldn’t see this relationship as a permanent thing. I wasn’t sure I loved him that way. Was I just trying to recreate my past and those astonishing feelings of first love? Or was this real?
“Want to come up for a drink?” my cousin Margaret asked, interrupting my increasingly gloomy thoughts. “We have some wine chilling in the bathroom sink.”
“I’m supposed to meet Bell in the lobby. We need go over the accident for his insurance report.” It was a lame excuse but the best one I could manufacture to get away from the family gracefully.
“We’re in room 150 if you want to come down.” We went into the lobby and the cousins headed for the main hallway, calling good-byes back to me.
I sat down in one of the faux leather chairs to the side of the entryway and stared at the TV set, tuned to a news channel. My mind churned, random thoughts popping up. I had to check at home and make sure my funeral clothes weren’t all wrinkled from whoever had robbed the place. I may need to do some ironing tonight or tomorrow. I should make a list of what I remembered to be in the safety deposit box sack. I wanted to try to find Mom’s correspondence with Bell. Lightly said something about Christmas cards, too, something that made me think I wanted to look at any cards Mom might have around.
Did someone really rob the house? I needed to find out more from Bell about that. Bell. I had to figure out what was going on with him. This thing between us couldn’t last. It was all a product of stress, worry, and nostalgia. I didn’t believe him when he said he loved me. He was feeling the strain of losing Mom, too. He was just facing middle-age and instead of indulging with a young blonde, he fixated on me.
I had totally forgotten about his secret visits to Mom. Why didn’t she tell me he was still coming around, years after he had left Kensington? Why didn’t she tell me about the drives they took out to the lake? What else didn’t she share with me?
That was a disquieting thought. I shoved it aside and considered the notebooks. Did Bell find anything in those old scribblings of Dad’s? I glanced at my phone to check the time and that reminded me that I hadn’t checked for any messages.
I tapped the phone icon and sure enough, there was a little “1” superimposed on it. I tapped the voicemail icon and put the phone to my ear just as a man came into the lobby and headed straight for me. He was the biggest person I’d ever seen, probably the same size as the football players I saw on TV, with a shaved head, hard-chiseled features, and dressed all in black: jeans, polo shirt, and boots.
“Wendy Davis?” he said, coming to a stop in front of me. “Tom Bell sent me. I’m going to escort you to his quarters.”
I stood, phone still pressed to my ear. “Sorry but I don’t think it would be smart of me to go with you unless you have some kind of identification.” I turned my attention back to my phone and the voice talking.
“Hi, Wendy Darling. I’m looking forward to seeing you.”
I recognized that taunting, mocking voice, so soft but also so charged with energy, with smugness.
“Don’t tell Tom about this call. If you do, you’ll never find out what really happened to your mother. It might be more complicated than you think. How do you think your parents paid for your father’s cancer specialist all those years ago? Think about that. And how do you think Bell got the money to start that first company of his? He didn’t earn it taking odd jobs here and there. Consider that. I’ll talk to you soon. You know where to find me. Bye.”
I lowered the phone, Peter’s voice echoing in my head.
Chapter 14
“I’m glad you’re being cautious,” the big man said. He reached into the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out a slender leather ID case, handing it to me.
I took it automatically, my mind trying to digest what I just heard. It was Peter on the phone. He really was alive. I recognized his voice. He had a faint trace of a Southern accent, inherited from his father and his voice was always soft, always suggestive, always with a slight leering quality.
I looked down at the ID. Jason Simmonds. The picture matched the giant standing in front of me. “Bell said that having you was like having three guys. I guess he was right. Did you get enough to eat at the house, Mr. Simmonds?”
“Call me Jason, please.” He smiled, his granite-like facade cracking. “There’s nothing like Church Lady casserole. Yes, we ate well, thank you. Are you ready to go?”
I tucked my phone into my purse. “Sure. It’s only a few steps, you know.” I started for the front door but he put a hand under my arm and steered me toward the check-in desk. “Where are we going?”
“Special entrance.” He nodded to the front desk clerk, a girl who looked high school age. She smiled tentatively in return, looking nervously from me to the big man.
“We’re with Tom Bell,” I said.
“Oh, well, that’s okay then,” she said in a rush of relief. The girl moved to the far end of the counter, watching covertly when Simmonds opened one of two doors behind the desk with a key from a bunch hanging on his belt. He ushered me through, turning on a light from a switch on the wall on the right.
I walked forward two steps then stopped. Stairs led downward. “Where does this go?” I waited for him to close and lock the door behind us.
“Tom decided it might be useful to have an additional exit, so when they built the hotel, we had this put in.”
“Put what in?” I followed him down the concrete steps. We came to a long, narrow hallway, painted white and brightly lit. There was no hint of dampness or mustiness. The air was as fresh as the air-conditioned lobby above us.
Jason walked down the hallway, speaking over his shoulder while he went. “Tom thought it might come in handy to have another way in and out. He’s made a few enemies in his day and it’s good to be prepared.”
“What?” I hurried to keep pace with him. “What do you mean he’s made enemies?”
“You know. Business enemies. Some of them would love to keep track of what he’s doing and where he’s going.” He glanced back at me. “And who he’s with.”
“Why would any of that matter?”
“Software development is a lot like politics. Perception can be as important as reality. Especially when it comes to shareholders.”
I considered prodding him for more information but decided I’d rather think about the phone call than about any hypothetical enemies Bell had made. Jason slowed his pace and we walked in silence the length of the hotel while my mind churned.
What did Peter mean by that innuendo? When Dad got cancer of the jaw, he did see a specialist, but I assumed it was at the behest of his local doctor and it was all paid for by his health insurance. Peter made it sound like something else was the case. I tried to visualize Mom’s files, all neatly categorized in a cabinet in her bedroom. There was one there with a “Medical” label. I would need to pull that out and check it.
“Here we are.” Jason opened a metal door and gestured me ahead of him. We emerged into the downstairs portion of Bell’s apartment, under the stairs in the rec room. When Jason closed the door, I saw no trace of it at all.
“How did you do that?”
Jason went to the stairs. “Like I said. It’s useful to have an escape hatch that nobody knows about.” He must have seen my exasperated look because he added, “There’s a code pad near the door. That opens it from either side. You must not have seen me use it.”
I didn’t see him because I was too busy thinking about Peter’s phone call. “I suppose that makes sense.” I followed him up the steps while I tried to figure out how I’d hide the phone call from Bell. I was never any good at keeping secrets from him.
“How was dinner?” Bell was on the sofa in the living room, my father’s notebooks on the coffee table in front of him and a wine glass nearby.
“It was fine. I was glad to get caught up with people. Probably a good thing you didn’t
go. You would have been bored silly. What are you doing?” I plopped down next to him.
“I’m going through the stuff your father left.”
Jason pulled over one of the arm chairs and sat down. “Jake is on duty downstairs and Bob is at the house.”
Bell nodded. “Good. Thanks.”
“Who’s on duty where?” I looked from him to Jason.
“We had one man watching the apartment where you were having dinner and the other is on duty at your house. Now that you’re here, Jake is downstairs, at the garage entrance.”
“Good heavens.” I sat back. “You act like we’re under siege.”
“We are.” Bell looked at me over his shoulder then turned back to the notebooks. “I’m taking this seriously. You should, too.”
“I am. I’m just not accustomed to briefing sessions and guards.” I sprang to my feet and went to the kitchen. “Unlike you.” I poured myself some wine and sat down again, hoping my nervousness about guards masked my nervousness about Peter. “You know, there’s one more thing I don’t understand about all this.”
Bell sat back and regarded me. “Only one?”
I nudged him in the ribs. “How did the reporters know we were there?”
“There where?” He sipped his wine.
“At the park.”
“Oh. That. I didn’t give these guys enough credit,” Bell said ruefully. “They did their research.”
“What’s that mean?”
“When I mentioned ‘Shadow’ to them, they asked around and found out that was our nickname for Peter. Then they dug a bit deeper and found out about the party at Lim’s farm where Peter supposedly died. They figured we might go out there again, so they talked to the local real estate agent. You know how local people are. She was so excited because I planned to check the house. They bribed some of the farmers out that way to let them know if an SUV like mine or yours came out. They got the call, they followed us to the house, and they followed us out of the park. Thank God they did.”