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“So,tell me everything. How is the project coming along?”
Lizzie was sitting on my oversized loveseat in my apartment with a bucket of butter popcorn in one hand and a glass of chardonnay in the other. This was our movie night but gossiping about the billionaire was much more entertaining.
“It’s interesting, to say the least.” I wanted to tell Lizzie everything but I erred on the side of caution. “Mr. Brooks is very reserved. He keeps to himself most of the time. I interact with his estate manager for the most part.” I could tell she wasn’t buying my watered-down version of the story so I continued, “His daughter is a gem though. I can’t help but admire her strength. How did you handle not having your mom around when you were younger?” I was hoping this redirect would take her off my scent.
“I don’t think it was too much of a big deal until I got to high school. Grandma did so much for me that I never felt left out.”
I could remember growing up and having Lizzie around on a regular basis. She always lived with us, and my mom treated her as if she was her daughter. I guess it was easier because she had me around. Either way, I was glad she never felt like she didn’t have a mom. I was eager to get to the movie and my question to Lizzie seemed to yield the desired effect.
“Let’s get the movie started. I have been waiting all week to see this.” I wanted to stop talking about Mr. Brooks. This was my time away from work and I was determined to enjoy it.
* * *
The movie ended,and as Lizzie gathered her belongings, I started to do a quick cleanup. My apartment was too small for any additional clutter. Lizzie gave me a hug and we both said goodnight. After doing dishes, I went to my small makeshift office, it was simply a dinner tray desk I used for my laptop that was nestled in the last empty corner of the small studio. During the pandemic, this was where I took video calls with clients. I sat down to go through the items Natasha gave me so I could properly create themes around each item for the room.
My mind flashed back to the day's event. Natasha was such a thoughtful child. I wasn’t sure of her age but looking at what she picked out, made me think she was a lot more mature. I fired up my laptop to do some more research. I wanted to find frames for two of the items and customizable furniture pieces to incorporate the other two pieces. I started typing and noticed there was blood on my keyboard. I started looking at my hands to see if I had a paper cut but just noticed dried blood on my fingers.
“Where did this come from?”
I couldn’t find a cut so I started to look at the pieces Natasha gave me. She must have cut her hand before touching them. I examined all four items and soon found where the blood came from. I hadn’t noticed it before, but my wet hand from doing dishes must have caused the transfer. It was a heavy music box; it had to weigh about ten pounds easily. It was made of pure silver, with a hidden compartment inside that had pictures and trinkets. I put the music box back in my pouch with every intention of cleaning it up.
Whose blood was on the music box and how did it get there in the first place?
* * *
CHAPTER 5
CHRISTOPHER
“Where are my damn car keys?”
Between this renovation and my nightmares, I have been finding it difficult to function these days. It has been three weeks since the visit from the cops and from the information I have gathered from Peter, the police have a smoking gun and are in the process of obtaining a search warrant. We have had a few meetings to go over strategy but until I was served, it will be a wait-and-see game. Since finding the cufflink missing, I have been avoiding the topic of Victoria’s accident at all costs. Not having a call from Peter was refreshing.
I had to take Natasha to school and start going through some things in the master bedroom closet so Sam could start repainting next week. I’d been calling her Sam since I overheard her conversation with Natasha in the art room a few weeks back. I found myself mysteriously drawn to her. She was the first person to get my daughter to light up since the accident. I missed that, and I was so happy to see her smile. I was warming up to the renovation. We clashed at first about the art room plans.
She had some pretty good ideas. The kitchen was already underway and I liked the little I could see. I was already informed that the master bedroom was next, so there was some urgency to organize things to make the process more seamless.
Over the past three weeks, our working relationship has improved. There was one particular argument between us that almost led to me looking for a new interior designer. I had no appetite to go through the process again and quickly made peace with the project and moved on.
I now look forward to seeing her in the mornings and tried to bump into her in the hallway throughout the day. Her hazel eyes light up with excitement every time she talks about trying new ideas and I pretend to listen just to have Marc Jacobs Dots overpower my senses.
The last week and a half have been exhilarating, I have caught myself undressing her with my eyes and imagining her warm skin against mine. I also felt a bit of guilt, the more I fantasized about Sam, the less I thought about Victoria.
Sam was in charge of packing up Victoria’s clothes. I was looking forward to that. Victoria’s scarf draped over the back of the sofa in the master bedroom, still brought me to tears and I growing weary of the constant reminders.
I finally located my car keys and was about to head out when I decided to get the cufflink out of the jewelry box and stash it somewhere safe, just in case I was surprised by the police again, this time with a search warrant. I rationalized hiding evidence in my head as simply being cautious. I now had the urge to give Peter a call to continue preparing.
I opened the jewelry box and found myself breathless, the cufflink was missing. Who on earth would have moved it? I rifled through the jewelry box three times before abandoning the search. I had to get Natasha to school so I decided to resume my search as soon as I got back.
On the drive, I was preoccupied with thoughts of who could have possibly moved the cufflink from the closet. Natasha seemed lost in a game on her iPad until she startled me with an unusual question: “Daddy, can I help Sam organize my new playroom today? She said she thought I would be a good little helper.”
“I think that should be okay.” I was too caught up in my thoughts to pay much attention.
“Awesome!”
I pulled up to the curb of the elementary school and noticed the principal greeting parents. This was unusual, but I waved as Natasha got out of the car. “Love you. Daddy. Have a good day.”
“Love you, peanut. Same to you.”
