Stepping Stone

by Dakota Willink

  “Is that why you decided to open a woman’s shelter?” she asked softly.

  I narrowed my eyes at her, finding it somewhat uncanny that she came to that conclusion.

  “What makes you ask that?”

  “Well, I don’t know,” she said with a shrug. “My original thought was that you were opening it because you could sympathize with women who came from abusive situations. But now I’m thinking that there might be more to it. Like perhaps you’re wondering if one day your mother will show up there.”

  “In a perfect world, angel. In a perfect world,” I mused with a shake of my head.

  “Do you want her to be found?”

  I didn’t know the answer to that, as I had asked myself the same question over and over again. A part of me hated my mother and never wanted to lay eyes on her again. But another part of me found it hard that she would just leave us so easily. I was sure that Hale was tired of looking into every Jane Doe that showed up on police blotters, even if he would never say anything about my obsession to discover the truth. Justine never understood my need to find the answers either. She thought I was looking for a ghost.

  “Come here,” I answered instead and pulled her back down to my lap. “There is no sense in both of us being exhausted tomorrow. Go back to bed. I’m going to stay up and work on this speech.”

  “Honestly, I’m not really all that tired at the moment. Maybe I could help,” she suggested.

  “You don’t want to do that,” I said with a laugh, attempting to lighten the somber mood. “These things are boring and pretty standard. I have a rough idea of what I need to write, but I’ll need to spice it up a bit or Justine will have my head. She says I’m too dry and I need to show more heart.”

  Coaxing her off my lap, I guided her back to the bedroom. Krystina climbed into bed and I pulled the covers over her. When I leaned down to kiss her, she rested her palms against the sides of my face.

  “I have an idea, Alex. How about you tell the truth in your speech? I can’t think of anything more heartfelt than a true story.”

  I looked pointedly at her, kissed her on the nose, and stood up.

  “That will never happen, angel.”

  “You should try. You may end up feeling better about what happened if you do.”

  I didn’t give her a response, but simply dimmed the light and walked from the room. Maybe I would feel better if I told my story, or maybe I wouldn’t. But it’s something that I would never find out. Making my story public was not an option. I refused to be the subject of speculation. Justine and I had already lived through that, and hell would freeze over before I allowed it to happen again.

  ****

  After Alexander left the room, I reached over to the nightstand and grabbed my phone. If he thought that I would be able to sleep after our conversation, he was sadly mistaken. The man was obviously grasping for answers. I was sure that he had researched his fathers murder extensively, but perhaps there was something that he missed.

  I slinked down in the bed and tucked the phone under the covers. I didn’t want the light from the screen to be seen by Alexander. It was better if he thought that I was going back to sleep, rather than find out that I was doing research on his behalf. I knew how much he valued his privacy. I didn’t want him to become upset upon learning what I was up to, even if I did have his best interests in mind.

  I pulled up the browser app and thought about how I should begin my search.

  I need a timeline. A date.

  I subtracted his age from the current year to figure out a time frame. After doing the quick math, I typed in Alexander’s name and the year that he would have been ten years old. I frowned when I saw that the search populated nothing of relevance. Everything I found was either a tabloid or business article related to the past ten years or so.

  I tried to narrow it down by including the Bronx, the area that he grew up in. I came across an article about a real estate transaction, but nothing that mentioned his mother or an unsolved murder case.

  Having little success with a search on Alexander, I tried using Justine’s name instead. I still came up with nothing that pertained to what I was looking for. I rubbed my burning eyes, attempting to fight off the sleep that wanted to overtake me.

  Perhaps his grandparents or his mothers name?

  It was then that I realized that I didn’t even know his mother’s name. I knew that his grandmother’s name was Lucy, but I couldn’t recall if he ever mentioned the name of his grandfather.

  This is useless. I need more to go on.

  Feeling frustrated, I placed the phone back onto the nightstand. I wished that I had found just a tiny scrap of information to work off of. There had to be something that would lead me to more answers for Alexander. I thought that he was putting way too much stock in a dream, but I knew that he needed the truth in order to move on. If I could help him find it, maybe he would stop beating himself up so much.

  I’ll look into it more after work tomorrow.

  Committing myself to do exactly that, I rolled onto my side and stared out the window. The sun was close to cresting the horizon, giving the sky a luminous red glow.

  Red in the morning, sailors take warning.

  I closed my eyes. The possibility of what the day’s weather forecast could be was my last fleeting thought before surrendering over to sleep.

  CHAPTER 21

  I was amazed at how fast my workdays were going at Turning Stone. Thursday went by like a blur, despite the fact that I had put in a twelve-hour day. Now here I was on Friday morning, already having almost a week under my belt. My days were jam packed, but I loved every minute of it.

  “Regina,” I called out to my secretary, having barely gotten used to the idea that I even had a secretary.

  “Yes, ma’am,” she said, peeking her head into my office. It was strange to be called ma’am, especially considering the fact that she was easily twenty years my senior.

  “I have an appointment with Walter Roberts this morning to go over the advertising strategy for Wally’s. It’s tough for him to get out of the store, so I’m going to meet him at his office. I should be back no later than two o’clock. Please forward any calls to my cell.”

  “Will do. Anything else?”

  “Actually, yes. Did you get a chance to read the email that I sent you about Sheppard’s Cuisine?”

  “I did, and I was already working on it.”

  “Great. Any luck finding info on their competitors markets?”

  “Oh, a ton! I already sent a lot of information over to Clive,” she told me, referring to Turning Stone’s lead marketing coordinator. “I’ll tell you, I remember a day when that task would have taken days worth of legwork. I might be showing my age when I say this, but thank heavens for the invention of the Internet. It made the research a breeze.”

  I laughed and was about to thank her, but stopped short as her words reminded me of all the trouble I was having with my attempt to research the murder of Alexander’s father online.

  That’s it! The Internet is my problem!

  The Internet was barely in existence twenty-five years ago, so there wouldn’t be any information available for me to find. I thought about the time that I had wasted last night trying to find information. Alexander wanted me to spend the night at his place, but I had made the excuse of being too tired from a long day.

  I’m so stupid…I can’t believe that I didn’t think about that!

  I would need to go to the library and look at newspaper archives.

  “Uh, thanks, Regina. One more thing,” I said absently. “I may not be back as soon as I expected. I just thought of another stop that I have to make.”

  “Take your time. We’ll hold up the fort,” she joked before returning to her office.

  I grabbed my purse and made my way towards the elevator. I was looking forward to seeing and working with Mr. Roberts, but I hoped that he wasn’t feeling particularly chatty this afternoon. I suddenly had a more pressing m
atter to attend to. If I balanced my time with him efficiently, I just might be able to squeeze in an hour at the library before having to get ready for the charity gala.

  The elevator doors opened and, in my mad rush to leave, I smacked right into Hale.

  “Oh! Hale,” I said, feeling embarrassed for not paying attention. “Sorry about that. I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

  “It’s okay, Miss. I was actually just on my way to see you. Mr. Stone requested that I give these to you.”

  He held out a set of keys.

  “What are these for?” I asked in confusion as I took the keys from him.

  “There is a car in the parking garage for you. It’s located in spot D36. Since I’m not always available for you, Mr. Stone prefers that you utilize this going forward. He is concerned about your safety on the subway or in a taxi.”

  “That sounds like something he would say,” I said with a frown. Something wasn’t sitting right with me. “Hale, is this just on loan until I can get my car fixed?”

  “I can’t say for sure, Miss. We didn’t discuss it. I was only told to retrieve the Porsche Boxster from his storage facility and bring the keys to you.”

  A Porsche. That sneaky bastard.

  Most likely, the car was not a loaner, but a gift. Alexander knew about the secret love affair that I had for the German car manufacturer. I recalled how he had once told me that collecting cars was a hobby of his. I was curious about the extent of this collection, as well as whether or not the Porsche was a part of it. However, no matter how much I was tempted, a car was one gift that I simply could not accept.

  “Hale, please tell Mr. Stone that I said thank you for the offer, but I prefer the cab. Besides, it’s easier than trying to find a parking spot.”

  “Miss Cole –.”

  “Hale,” I said and reached for his hand. I placed the keys back into his palm. “I’m taking a taxi.”

  “He will not be very pleased about this.”

  “Oh, I’m sure that he’ll be furious. But I can handle it,” I added with a wink and pressed the button to call up the elevator once again. The corners of Hale’s mouth turned up in the subtlest way. It wasn’t quite a smile, but there was a hint of humor in his eyes that gave him away.

  “Have a good day, Miss.”

  “Thanks. You too,” I said as I stepped into the elevator.

  Before the elevator even reached the ground floor, my cell pinged with a text notification. As I walked through the lobby, I pulled my cell from my purse. Not surprisingly, the text was from Alexander.

  9:51 AM, Alexander: Must you always be so difficult?

  I smiled to myself. Rather than have a battle of wills, I responded with only a kissy-face emoticon and tossed the phone back in to my purse. He could either laugh at what I sent, or get mad. Either way, I had a busy day lined up and fighting over a car was not on my agenda.

  I walked out the main doors and was happy to see that there was already a cab parked at the curb. I quickly climbed in.

  “Wally’s on 57th please,” I told the driver.

  I sat back in my seat and thought about Walter Roberts. I hadn’t seen my old boss in weeks. I was looking forward to working with him again, even if the context was different than before.

  My cell phone began to ring. I groaned to myself, thinking that it was Alexander calling me about the Porsche. However, when I looked at the screen, I saw that it was my mother calling. A part of me wished that it were Alexander, as that conversation would have been easier. I hadn’t spoken with my mother since she left after her last visit, and things were strained to say the least.

  “Hi, mom,” I greeted tentatively.

  “Hello, love. How are you? I haven’t heard from you in a while.”

  “Sorry, things have been a little hectic. I started a new job,” I told her, hoping that she’d be happy to hear the news. “The pay is really good. You can tell Frank that I’ll take care of my rent from now on.”

  “Good for you. I’ll let him know. Anything else new and exciting?”

  That’s it?

  She had been hounding me about a job for months. I was shocked that she wasn’t pressing me for details. The cab driver took a sharp right, forcing me hard against the passenger door.

  Maybe Alexander is right to have concern over my safety in a cab.

  “Um…not really. Same old,” I told her.

  I wasn’t sure what else to say. My mother usually talked my ear off, and I could rarely ever get a word in edgewise.

  “Are you still seeing Alexander?”

  Ah…now we might be getting somewhere.

  “Actually, I am. Why do you ask?” I said, feeling somewhat guarded.

  “Well, I was thinking about Thanksgiving. You usually come home for the holiday. I thought that you could invite him to join us.”

  What is this?

  It was like she was encouraging me to have a relationship. She was always so full of doom and gloom whenever the opposite sex came up, and I wondered what brought on this one-eighty.

  “I could ask him. I’m not sure if he has plans or not,” I said somewhat distractedly as I looked at the road ahead. I gripped the door handle for dear life as the cab came to a sudden stop.

  “Excellent. Let me know when you find out. Now, I know how busy you are so I won’t keep you.”

  Okay, now this is just beyond the point of bizarre.

  I found it hard to believe that I was speaking to Elizabeth Long, the bitter woman who all but claimed that all men were evil and that I should steer clear of the lot of them. I pulled the phone away from my ear just to make sure that it was her name on the display.

  “Mom, is everything okay?” I asked her before she could hang up.

  “Yes, love. Why wouldn’t it be?”

  “I don’t know. You’re just acting kind of weird,” I said, feeling totally bewildered. The line went quiet. “Mom, are you still there?”

  I heard her sigh.

  “I’m here. I’m sorry if you think that I’m acting strange. Maybe I am, but it’s only because I’m trying to just let you be. I was left with a lot to think about after my last visit.”

  “Mom –.”

  “Just hear me out for a minute. I was really upset and had a long talk with Frank on the drive home from the city. And then, over the course of the past few weeks, he eventually made me see things a bit differently. I didn’t realize how hard I was being on you. You know that I love you, right?”

  “Of course I do, mom. I love you too.”

  “I really only want what’s best for you, but I know that I need to take a step back. You’re an adult and I can’t keep telling you what to do. It’s well past time that I let you decide what is best for you.”

  “Uh, thanks I guess,” I said with a small laugh, lacking any other thing to say. This was so out of character for her, and I wasn’t sure what to think.

  “You’ll call me when you have an answer about Thanksgiving?”

  “Yeah, sure. No problem.”

  “Alright, love. Then I’ll talk to you soon. Bye now.”

  “Bye, mom.”

  I hit the end button on my cell and just sat there staring at the screen. Traffic passed by and horns blared, but I was seeing and hearing none of it. I was happy that my mother was finally loosening the reins a bit. After all, I stopped being a child long ago. But even so, it may have been the weirdest conversation that I ever had with her.

  ****

  It was nearing three o’clock and I was finishing up my weekly recap with Laura in order to set up priorities for the following week.

  “Were you able to get a crew for The Lucy?”

  “I did find one, sir,” Laura told me. “The company comes with good references and are fully insured. They suggested that you dock her in the Florida Keys rather than the Caribbean because of crime concerns. If you’d like to discuss it in more detail, I have already scheduled a meeting for you with them next week on Tuesday.”

  “Good
. Where do we stand on the building permits?” I asked, moving on to the next order of business. “I need to know who’s palm I have to grease to get things moving along.”

  She flipped tabs in the binder that she held in her lap and ran a finger down a page.

  “All of the permits for the old Rushmore building have come through from the city ordinance, Mr. Stone. I’m just waiting on your go ahead to give the contractors clearance to begin work,” Laura told me.

  “It’s about damn time, too,” I bit out in annoyance. “I bought that building nearly two years ago.”

  She sighed.

  “I understand your frustrations, but there was no way that you could have known about the structural concerns of the building, sir,” she tried to assure. “It wasn’t disclosed and it was missed by the inspectors.”

  “Either way, the hold up is irritating, not to mention extremely costly. Where is Stephen on the legal end of that?”

  “I only know that he’s been hitting wall after wall with trying to get compensation from Rushmore Industries. Their bankruptcy is putting a monkey wrench in anything Stephen tries to present to the judge.”

  “Alright. I’ll get with him on that later. What else do you have for me?”

  “The roof construction permits for Wally’s Grocery have been applied for, and I do not expect any hold up there. The Mayor’s interest in that deal has really helped to move things along.”

  “Good. I’ll take that one step further. Call his office and try to set up a lunch meeting for us next week. I want to ensure that his interest remains steadfast.”

  “Will do, sir. Anything else?”

  “Yes. I emailed you a list of properties in lower Manhattan. I’ll need all the background information pertaining to them. Scratch anything that will be a headache and then send me an updated list of what looks promising. I’ll do site visits with Hale next week.”

  “I’ll have the information by Monday morn –.”

  A knock on my office door interrupted her.