by Lacey Silks
“I’ll wear the heels if you wear the chauffeur’s hat,” I called out to the front.
“Deal.” I saw him smile in the back mirror and waited for further instructions.
“The other bank is half an hour away. They’ll lead you right into the safety deposit box room. It’s as much as I could get. Do you remember all the questions?”
“Of course I do. Are you sure that’s all there is? I mean, just questions?”
“No, I’m not sure. But I believe in you.”
“Well, then you’re a fool, because if they ask me something I don’t know, we’re screwed.”
“There will be no screwing going on unless it’s you and me on a bed full of fifty million dollars.”
An image of us rolling around on a bed full of cash flashed through my mind.
I wasn’t sure why, but it didn’t sit well with me. I didn’t care about the money. All I wanted was for Simon’s debts to be paid off, so that whoever had hired Sean would leave us alone. But Sean was just kidding, wasn’t he?
We parked right outside the bank. Once I was through the door, I felt even more nervous. For all I knew, the other woman, Chelsea, could be there. After the immediate greeting by the bank manager, and explaining to him the made-up story of how Fluffy had swallowed my key, I was led past a brawny security guy into a private room with a wall of safety deposit boxes, and my mouth dropped open. Not because of the immense amount of wealth I imagined only a few feet away, but because of the keypad on the front of each deposit box, and no key hole.
Shit!
“Luckily, there’s no longer a need for a key. You still remember your code, Mrs. Davis?”
“Yes, of course.”
Fuck! Sean swore in my earpiece.
“We’ll let you be then. Please take your time. If there’s anything we can do, please let us know.”
“Thank you.”
As soon as the manager left I sighed and realized the reason why they hadn’t asked me any questions before letting me into the room.
“It’s a keypad, not a key. What do I do?”
I don’t know. But if we don’t get into that box, we’re screwed.
We were so close, yet so far from our goal.
“Do we lose anything if we try?”
I don’t know what kind of system it is. They must have changed it recently. An alarm could go off if you get it wrong.
“Wait. How exactly would fifty million fit in there?”
There was a buzzing silence in my earpiece, and I was afraid of what I’d hear next.
It wouldn’t. Since Chelsea withdrew the money, I was hoping she left account information or an address of sorts in there. My contact only had the safety deposit box information. At this point, anything could help, and this box is our only lead.
“Okay, give me a moment.”
Going on a gut instinct, I peeked outside and signaled the branch manager.
“Mr. Silone, I’ll be frank. I have a large sum of money I need to deposit, and I’m hoping for your utmost discretion.”
“Yes of course. Anything you say here will remain confidential. You’ve been a very important client to us, Mrs. Davis and we appreciate your business over the past two years.”
Two years. Interesting.
This meant that Chelsea had likely had an account at this bank at one point.
“I would also need help transporting the cash,” I said.
He tilted his head to the side. I imagined he already had the question on the tip of his tongue. “And what sum are we talking about?”
“Fifty million dollars.”
“Well, I’m sure that whatever you need, we can provide.”
“I’m in a hurry today, but would like to set up a special account to make a significant deposit. You do have all my information on file already. I imagine it’s just a matter of a few signatures?”
“Yes, of course. I’ll be right back.”
What are you up to, April?
“Well, the money is definitely not in the stupid safety deposit box. And he didn’t say anything about another fifty million in my other account.” The door knob twisted, and I added, “Just trust me.”
Completely.
“There you go. Three places to sign, and we’re done.”
I scanned the papers quickly, noting the pre-printed address at the top and quietly mouthed it, pretending to be double-checking my personal information.
Got it.
I quickly signed the documents, saying, “I’ll have my assistant, Trevor, contact you and schedule the details of the delivery. I’m assuming I can count on extra security during the process?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Thank you for your time, Mr. Silone.”
“Thank you for choosing our bank, Mrs. Davis. I’m looking forward to doing business with you once again.”
“Likewise.”
Sean waited for me outside with the limo door already open. I got in, and as soon as he drove off, my hands began to shake.
Chapter 20
April
“Chelsea is twenty-eight, and my contact tells me that she’s still in the city. My patience is running low. We should definitely go inside.”
For the past twenty-four hours, we’d been sitting in an SUV almost a block away from where Chelsea supposedly lived. No one had come in or out of the house. If the money wasn’t at a bank, then it was possible she had it with her. But why would she keep all that cash? There was no way it could be at her house, could it?
“What if she comes home when we’re there?” I asked.
“Then we run as fast as we can.”
“What if the money is not there?”
“One step at a time. Look.” He pointed toward the front of the house, where a silver Mazda had finally pulled up. I held my breath as Chelsea stepped out of her car and ran to the front door. She wore jean shorts that nearly exposed her behind, a low cut t-shirt, and dark shades that made her face look like a bumblebee. Even from this far away I could recognize the similarities in our body size, hair length, and gestures. She was truly my double. Once she was on the porch, the keys slipped out of her hand and she crouched to pick them up, smoothing her hand over the left pocket in her jeans and breathing out in relief. Her hands shook, and the sound of jiggling keys reached us. She kept on turning around, as if expecting to see someone behind her. She finally went inside, and I let out the breath I was holding.
“Do you think—”
“—Shh. Stay still.”
It didn’t take Chelsea longer than thirty seconds to come back outside. She had a manila envelope under her arm and almost tripped coming down the three steps and back onto the driveway. The Mazda’s wheels screeched as she pulled away from the parking spot and again when she turned the corner.
The silence between us was thick with tension. We lowered the binoculars down from our faces and looked at each other at the same time.
“What now?”
“We go in.”
I gave him a quick nod. At this point I was following Sean’s lead, and I hoped he knew what he was getting us into. We left the car parked in the same spot and headed toward the modest bungalow. It was definitely not the house I’d pictured the rich Chelsea living in.
Sean opened the gate to the back yard at the side of the house. Wouldn’t it have been better to do this at night? At least darkness could have protected us somewhat. With our backs hunched over, we scurried to the back door. Just as the lock gave way to Sean’s pick, we heard a car pull into the driveway with the same eerie scratch. We jumped to the side and crouched against the wall. A moment later, Sean peeked through the window above us.
“Chelsea’s back. She’s looking for something in the kitchen. Seems in a rush.”
That’s when we heard another car pull up to the house. The hairs on the back of my neck stood and chills swept over my body.
“What the hell is going on?” he asked in a low voice.
Someone else must have joined
Chelsea, because the muffled argument brewing inside was getting louder. I grasped Sean’s arm, my fingers digging into his skin. Something clattered to the floor, and I flinched before huddling closer to Sean’s arm. And then for what seemed like the longest minute of my life, all was quiet. With curiosity I poked my head up and looked into the window. A man stood half hidden behind a wall, with only his arm visible, which was uncovered and had a dragon tattoo. My gaze slid lower to his hand where he was holding a gun. I slid down the wall whispering, “He has a gun.”
I could barely hear my voice.
“Don’t peek again.” Sean sat still. His muscles were tight and his jaw hard.
The unnerving silence was broken with the sound of a shot fired inside the house. It wasn’t loud, so it must have been silenced—only the slight sound of a whizz as the bullet left the barrel and cut through the air. My whole body shrank down, and I pressed my hands to my ears. It felt like I had just traveled back in time.
A shot in my house.
Me running downstairs.
Simon down on the floor.
Me finding Parker with a gun in his hands.
Us holding on tightly to each other as I tampered with the evidence.
“April… come back to me, beautiful.” Sean’s words finally broke through my trance. His lips were near my temple, and he wiped what must have been a tear running down my cheek. “He’s gone.”
“Who’s gone? But the gun… it just went off.”
“It’s been fifteen minutes, and the car is gone as well. Are you okay to go inside? I don’t want to leave you out here on your own. But we should move.”
Since there was no way I was willing to stay there on my own, I nodded. Still wearing his latex gloves, Sean twisted the handle. Inside was chaos. Anything that could have been flipped and broken had been. The rooms looked like a tornado had flown through. Sean slowly walked in front of me, stepping over broken glass, sofa cushions, and a lamp; and then he froze.
“What is it?” I asked.
“Close your eyes.”
But it was already too late. Chelsea was lying down on the floor just beyond the sofa. Her still body didn’t shock me as much as it probably had Sean. After all, I was more used to corpses than most people. I stepped in front of him to have a better look.
Her eyes were open and there was a wound over the heart. Blood was splattered on the wall and floor in a pattern consistent with a close-range shot. I crouched at her side and gently swept my hand over her eyes, closing them.
“April—”
“—I’m fine. I work with the dead, remember?”
“Are you okay here while I look around?” he asked.
“Yes, I’ll be fine.”
Sean left to inspect the rest of the house. I crouched beside her and picked the stray feather from her hair. There was a red mark around her forearm, so whoever was here had definitely left a print. Her left cheek was flushed with a fresh red slap mark and my heart clenched. No woman deserved to be hit— no matter what. I scanned her body with my professional eye, and nearly fell backward when I saw the tattoo on the inside of her wrist.
“Jesus.” I pulled my hand to my mouth. This had to be a coincidence, didn’t it? My deceased husband’s name had been inked there. It had to be the name of her boyfriend; or maybe she was the one who’d been screwing Simon when he was alive. Could they be connected? Had he cheated on me with her? Oh, my God! He left the money to her, didn’t he? And the only way she could have known about it was if he’d told her before he died.
Her petite frame was familiar to mine. Her mid-section was tighter and her hips not as wide as mine, but the resemblance gave me the heebie-jeebies. Why would Simon have an affair with someone who looked like me? Was I not good enough?
Sean returned, pointed to the gun in her hand, and said, “She killed herself.”
“No, she didn’t.”
“Are you sure?” he asked. If he saw the tattoo on her wrist, he didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. The meaning of such a permanent mark was clear. My husband wasn’t the loving man many had thought he was. I had given him plenty of chances to come clean, and to love me and Parker the way we needed to be loved, but he never had. All the hard work to keep our family intact meant nothing. I shook away my sorrow through a tremble.
Get a grip, April.
“You don’t shoot yourself and the gun stays there all neat in your hand. Once the trigger is pulled, you lose control of your muscles and grip. The odds of it ending up in her hand so perfectly are in the millions.”
“Oh, right.”
“And the blood pattern, the feather—”
“—feather?”
I lifted the piece of evidence, holding it between my fingertips, examining it carefully.
“He muffled the sound of the gun with a pillow. Goose-filled. But where is the pillow?”
“April, I know your forensics instinct is kicking in and you’d like to spend a few hours here, but we don’t have time to find the murderer.”
“It’s just… I wish I had time. Maybe I could figure it out.”
“Do you want to risk this guy coming back?”
“No.”
“Look, I’m sure this woman had many secrets we might want to know, but we need to think about the money now. It’s the only way you can be safe again.”
But my thoughts were still with Chelsea.
How long had her and Simon’s relationship lasted? When had it begun? Did he get that policy for her, and forget about his own wife and child? Or was it all about the money? He didn’t want us, so he found a look-a-like to claim the insurance money. All that trouble, and he didn’t even get to spend a penny of it.
“You’re probably right. I’m guessing you didn’t find the money?”
“No,” he shook his head.
Why would she have come back to the house? She was obviously running away from someone. What had she forgotten?
“We should get out of here,” Sean prompted.
“Hold on.”
I noted something protruding from the pocket of her jean shorts, the same pocket she’d been patting down earlier on the porch, and I reached inside. When I pulled out the single key with a small logo of a storage company, I couldn’t help but smile.
“Do you think this is what he was looking for?” I dangled the key between my fingers.
“No, I think he was looking for the money, and didn’t expect that Chelsea had hidden it elsewhere.”
Was the man who killed her, a boyfriend? Did he want the money for himself?
“Let me guess where we’re going next.” I felt the right side of my mouth lift. Finally I was beginning to feel like me: in the zone and using clues to solve a crime. A rush of pure adrenaline coursed through me. If Simon’s widow or ex-girlfriend couldn’t have the money, I wouldn’t allow another man to steal it.
Half an hour later, we pulled up to the storage unit which looked like it had been abandoned for a couple of decades. I compared the numbered compartments to the 239 on the keychain. We drove for what felt like forever without a soul in sight, but I couldn’t let my guard down. I had a hunch, and if it panned out, we’d want to leave without being spotted.
“I’m praying right now that no one will surprise us.” I stepped out of the car and looked down the long aisle of storage bunkers.
“Unless the murderer has another key, I think we’re good.”
The key fit the hole smoothly. We exchanged a quick glance, and the lock opened. But when Sean rolled up the door, all we found was an almost empty locker. There was a motorcycle there, a couple of old chairs, and a bunch of cigarette butts. It definitely didn’t look like a storage compartment a woman would use.
“Fuck!”
“Why would she have this key?”
Sean’s brows narrowed. He paced back and forth a few times before he went to the trunk of the car and removed a wrench from the toolbox.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m about to t
est a theory.”
“It’s not the let’s smash the motorcycle theory, is it?”
He laughed. I was glad one of us found my lame joke funny.
“No, it’s the what if they both had lockers and switched keys theory.”
Didn’t that mean the murderer could be on his way here?
“You’d better hurry, then.”
Sean walked over to the storage unit on the right and, with one loud smack, broke the lock. I jumped up at the metal on metal clink. Dead bodies might not scare me, but violence did. He rolled up the door with what looked like all the strength in his arms, and boxes spilled out of the hoarder-like room. If there had ever been fifty million dollars in there, I was pretty sure the rats would have torn it to shreds.
My gaze then fell on the door to the left side. “Try that one!”
I was feeling more excited by the minute. The sooner we could find the money, the quicker this nightmare would be over, and I could get back home to Parker.
“Step aside.”
I backed away and Sean smashed the wrench against the lock. It broke into two pieces, along with the metal it was looped through, and fell to the ground.
“Here it goes.” This door lifted with much more ease. I stood there, staring ahead, feeling my jaw get heavier and heavier. Sean didn’t waste time and ran inside. He opened the first of ten duffle bags and showed me a handful of neatly stacked hundred-dollar bills.
“Cha-ching!” He laughed.
“Oh, my God! It’s here. Is it fifty million?”
“Looks like it.” Without saying much more, he started taking the bags, which looked like they weighed a ton, and dragging them into the car. After the fifth one, Sean’s muscles ripened like watermelons and his face looked like he was peeing rocks. And we still had five more to go.
“Are they heavy? Can I help?” I asked.
He paused for a moment and shook his head before resuming.