Reading my mind?
“You should keep the door locked.”
“The building is secure. Besides, I unlocked it when I buzzed you in.” She stepped inside. “Who is going to harm me?”
“Not really the point.”
She stopped near a sideboard. “Am I in danger?”
“I see no reason to believe you are a target, but don’t let your guard down.” His eyes roamed the apartment again. “Are you okay being alone?”
“Why?”
The question in her eyes was genuine. Behind the façade of coping with the chaos around her, and refusing to acknowledge their past, a tiny flicker of something ignited.
And disappeared. “Please don’t patronise me, Detective Rossi.”
“I’m not. You were concerned you might be in danger. Having someone else in the apartment might help you sleep better.”
“Someone with a badge?”
Before Ben could digest her comment, let alone answer, she turned away. “I asked you here to listen to something. To a message.”
Jack Bannerman’s voice was the last thing he’d expected.
“Honey, it’s Dad. Wish you weren’t on a plane, and I’m sure there’s all kind of talk now, but it’ll make sense once you read the letter. I promise. It is in our secret spot so don’t let Meredith know. Or…anyone. And I’m sorry to leave things like this.” A long sigh. “I love you so much, honey. Be strong for me.”
As the recording ended with a series of beeps, Ellie walked away. “Drink? Haven’t got much else except expensive champagne Dennis decided to binge buy whilst I was in London.”
“I need to hear it again. I missed the time of the call.”
“Take the machine. Listen all you want but it won’t change the facts.” Ellie poured two glasses of champagne and carried them to Ben. The rims of her eyes were red.
“We don’t know the facts, Ellie.” Ben accepted a glass.
“He’s sorry to leave like this. Wants me to be strong. What do you think he means? Ben, he was saying…goodbye.”
“No. He was telling you there’s a letter which explains something. Perhaps where he is.”
“But why would he do that?”
Ben had no answers, so sipped the drink, watching Ellie’s face. So expressive, the flash of hope followed by thoughtfulness, and then, a sudden understanding.
“I know what he meant. I need to go to the house.”
“Jack’s house? Why?”
“Dad and I have a few places we call ours. But only one, I think, where he could leave a letter. Are you coming with me?”
As if he’d refuse.
A solitary light was on in the library in Jack’s house, the one over his desk. Thick carpet and timber walls created a sense of quiet and old-fashioned comfort. Several rows of floor-to-ceiling bookshelves filled one side of the space. Two desks faced each other, whilst in a corner, tub chairs circled a low coffee table near a bar.
Dennis sat behind Jack’s desk, systematically going through each drawer. He’d already checked the safe which held its customary wad of cash, Jack’s passport, and a small photo album. This he’d flicked through, passing over photos of Ellie from birth to graduation, stopping on a casual one from their own wedding.
Ellie and Dennis were dancing. Near them, Jack and Meredith also danced but Jack’s attention was on another woman. Gabi, her face animated as she waltzed with Campbell. Dennis had only met Ellie’s mother once, at the wedding, then she was gone again to wherever it was she went.
Jack rarely mentioned her, but he kept a photo of her with Ellie on his desk at work. Despite him being the one to divorce Gabi. Perhaps he regretted it.
He closed the album and shoved it back under the passport, then locked the safe and straightened the painting in front of it.
There was nothing of interest in Jack’s desk, so he turned to Ellie’s. Behind some files in the bottom drawer was an old, black bottle of rum. Rum didn’t interest him, but the lid of this bottle did. It was loose. Something else was inside, hidden behind the dark glass. His fingers were too big to reach what looked like tightly curled paper. He closed the drawer.
Bottle in one hand, he turned off the light. Fingers on the door knob, Meredith’s raised voice, followed by Ellie’s calmer one, stopped him. High heels approaching on the timber floorboards sent him scurrying to the furthest corner of the room, squeezing into a corner near a bookcase.
“Keep it short. I need my sleep.”
The door opened.
“At barely eight?”
Ellie had a point.
“Anyway, what are you looking for? I’m not keeping Jack captive in here.”
“Meredith, we won’t be long, but for goodness sake, what does it matter? I’m getting something from my desk, not Dad’s.”
“Fine. Turn the lights off when you leave.” The door closed with a loud click.
Just hurry up.
“So, why are we here?”
Dennis almost dropped the bottle. What the hell was the detective doing in Jack’s library?
“When I was a child, Dad began hiding messages for me to find. Inside books usually, with a couple of clues to follow.”
Unable to help himself, Dennis crept from his hiding spot and found a vantage point where he could watch Ellie between a gap in a row of books. She stood at her desk, the detective to one side.
“What was the purpose?”
“Probably to distract me when Gabi left. I was only little and suddenly had no mother. The messages ranged from envelopes with gift cards to handwritten notes telling me how…proud he was of me.” Ellie shook her head. “Anyway, it evolved into our way of communicating to each other. Things we didn’t want anyone else to know.”
“Such as?”
“He lost a bundle on poker once. Didn’t want Meredith to find out because she hates gambling but had to share. Oh, and I told him I was taking the year off via a note. I knew he’d be upset and it was easier for me to do it that way.” She sat and opened the bottom drawer. “We use an empty rum bottle as the receptacle. Like pirate’s treasure. Which should be here.”
Which is in my hand.
And made it even more important he was the first one to read the note.
“But it isn’t.”
“You sure?”
“Perhaps he left it in his desk. But this is what he meant, I’m sure it is.”
Dennis retreated to his dark corner.
More opening of drawers and then a sigh. “It doesn’t make sense, Ben. It should be here.”
“Who else knows about this? Dennis? Meredith?”
“Nobody. It was our thing and meant nothing. But the bottle is gone.”
“Cleaner? Not that anyone should be in the desk drawers. Is there another hiding place?”
“I guess it might be in one of the books.”
Dennis was as far in as he could get. If they came around the first row of bookcases he was stuffed. What excuse could he come up with?
Is this what you are looking for? Pina Colada, anyone? Oh, it doesn’t have rum inside?
“Meredith wasn’t happy about you coming in here. Shall we ask her a couple of questions?”