“Well, happy belated birthday. I have some papers from your aunt’s will that we need to go over. It seems that Shelley wanted to give you half of her things on your eighteenth birthday and the rest on your twenty-fifth. A lot of people are doing that now,” Veronica explains.
I sigh. “Veronica, I don’t mean to be rude, but can we just go over the papers? I just want to get this over with.”
She laughs. “Oh, Blake, I wish you’d come intern for us. You’re my kind of girl.” Her brown eyes search my face before continuing. “Your aunt left you a key to a safety deposit box as well as two more properties. These are plots of land. She also left you more money; I assume to cover the taxes for the land for a while. You just have to sign off on everything, and you can be on your way.”
I’m totally dumbfounded. Shelley and I lived such a frugal life. I would have never known she had so much money.
“Are you okay?” Veronica asks, seeing my blank stare.
“Yes, I just...I would have never known that Shelley had so much money,” I reply honestly.
“Yeah, well, some people don’t like to flaunt what they have. I personally think if you’ve got it, use it while you’re alive. It’s no good to you once you’re dead—especially if you don’t have kids to hand it down to. Thankfully, your aunt had you to leave it for.”
I smile weakly and start signing the deed to the land. She hands me the safety deposit key in an envelope, and I thank her as I leave. As I wait for the elevator, I open the envelope in my hands. There’s a letter from Aunt Shelley along with a key.
Blake,
This is going to be a lot to take in, so you may want to sit down to read this.
When the elevators open I snap the letter shut and look up. My heart drops when I find the sky-blue eyes that terrorize my nights watching me intently. I take a moment to assess his face again, slowly this time. He looks about forty years old, give or take. His blond hair is slicked back; he has light blond hair that sprinkles his jaw. His nose is long and straight and his eyes—those sky-blue eyes. I’ve dreamt of finding him and asking him questions for so long, but now that I have him in front of me, I don’t think I can bear to know the answers.
“Mr. Lewis,” I say as I extend a shaky hand to greet him. “I’m Blake Brennan. I’m a friend of Aimee’s.”
I watch as his eyes widen before he finally sticks his hand in mine, I feel as if he’s reaching into my heart and turning the knife that’s been there for the past twenty-one years.
“It’s about time we formally meet, Blake,” he replies as he examines every inch of my face. “Would you like to step into my office? I have a couple of minutes to kill.”
My eyes widen at his choice of words, but I nod in agreement.
I pull out my phone as we reach his office door and send Cole a text message that says I’m thinking about him. If I die, I want him to know that. I wish I could have sent him one that said I love you, but I’m not that positive that I’m going to die.
Mark’s office is massive. He has a huge cherry wood desk in the middle of the room, a bookshelf to the left, a bar to the right with barstools, and an amazing view of the river and city behind him. The decor screams grandeur.
“Have a seat, Blake,” he says as he shrugs off his jacket and tosses it on a barstool. He misses it by a long shot, so it lands on the floor. I suppress the urge to pick it up and place it on a seat in front of his desk. He goes over to the bar and asks me if I want a drink. I shake my head no and watch as he pours himself some single malt scotch. Maybe I should have said yes.
“How are you?” he asks, searching my face.
I’m not sure my vocal cords will cooperate and reply.
I open my mouth a couple of times and finally clear my throat. “I’m...fine. How are you?” I ask in a confused tone.
“Good. How’s law school?” he asks, watching me intently.
This would be a good time to use my poker face. I take a deep breath and pray that I have a poker face to play with.
“How’d you know I was in law school?” I ask evenly.
“You said you’re a friend of Aimee’s. I assume you know her from school. That girl doesn’t have a social life outside of school. I’m assuming you have some questions for me?” he asks raising an eyebrow.
I take a deep breath as he takes a sip of his drink and can no longer wait to ask him the one question that’s been tormenting me for the past thirteen years. “Did you kill my father?” I ask quietly.
He chokes on his drink and coughs a couple of times. “Wha...What? I meant questions about your estates. What are you talking about?” he sputters.
“Sorry,” I say as my phone starts ringing. I look down and see Cole’s name on my screen before I send it to voicemail. “That was an awkward thing to ask, but I know who you are.”
He clears his throat. “No, Blake. You don’t know who I am. If you did, you would not ask me a question like that. My job is to put criminals behind bars. Why would I kill someone?”
I feel the walls of my throat starting to close in, and I urge any stupid tears to stay away. “Can you tell me what happened to him?” I whisper brokenly.
The question makes his face crumble. He recovers his composure quickly, and I know that if I wasn’t looking for a thousand truths in his eyes, I would have missed it.
“I don’t know what you mean, Blake. Who is your father?” he asked, surely in the voice he uses on his clients.
“Mr. Lewis, I know you’re the man that took me from my house when I was little. I don’t know why you did it, but I’m sick of not knowing who I am. Did you kill him or not?” I ask boldly.
“I already told you that I don’t kill people,” he spits angrily before getting up to pace his office. “I don’t have any information for you, Blake. I suggest you save your energy and stop poking your nose around in places. You may find something that you don’t like. Trust me, I learned the hard way.”
I tilt my head to scrutinize him. “What are you talking about? You’re one of the best attorneys in Chicago.”
“Yes, I am. That doesn’t mean I’m not paying for my past. Please—just let it go. You’ve done well for yourself.”
“You say that as if it’s easy,” I mutter under my breath before I realize what he just told me. “How do you know what kind of life I’ve lived? Have you been watching me?” I ask horrified.
“I’ve been keeping an eye on you, yes,” he sighs. “It’s for your own good. Can I trust you to keep this to yourself, Blake? I have a meeting in five minutes and one hell of a week in front of me. I can’t have this weighing on my mind right now.”
I laugh sarcastically. “I would hate to be a burden on your conscience, Mark. Your secret is safe with me. I still have questions, though.”
“Blake, do you know the saying, ‘curiosity killed the cat?’” he asks and waits for me to nod. “In this case, curiosity kills everybody except the cat. Trust me, it hurts more that way. For the sake of the people you love, let it go.”
“Well, Mark, lucky for me, I don’t love anybody,” I huff.
He looks at me with a raised eyebrow. “Sure about that, Blake?”