* * *
Mack was dressed early but hoping for a little peace and quiet so he could finish going through the house. He didn’t really expect any revelations, but he’d promised Trey Jakes that he would look. An hour passed, and he was about to call it quits when he opened a drawer and saw his mother’s old jewelry box. She’d been gone so many years that he assumed his dad had kept it for sentimental reasons, but for as long as he could remember it had been on a corner shelf near the bedroom window.
Now it was in a drawer? Why?
Only one way to find out.
He opened it slowly, taking care not to break a loose hinge, and at first saw nothing except bits and pieces of outdated costume jewelry. It wasn’t until he began poking through the necklaces on the second level that he found the key. He knew immediately what kind of key it was, and he was shocked.
He actually stopped and sat down on the corner of the bed, palming the key to a safety deposit box he’d never known about while trying to wrap his head around why his father had kept it a secret.
“Okay, Dad. You always told me everything. I know your lawyer has a copy of your will. I knew every time your doctor changed your meds. I even remember you telling me one time how you wanted your funeral to play out. I know you expected me to sell the garage one day because I wasn’t going to live here, and I know you trusted me implicitly, but I never knew about this. Why did I not know about this?”
Unfortunately, Paul wasn’t there to explain himself, and Mack was an impatient man. The only way to get answers was to go to the source. He glanced at the clock. The bank would be open in five minutes. It was time to take a look at his father’s secrets.
But his trip to the bank became more involved than he’d imagined. Because Paul Jackson was deceased, and because he was the only one on the signature card and his estate would have to go through probate, the box had to be opened in front of witnesses, including his dad’s lawyer, Adrian Emerson.
So he made a quick call. The phone rang once, twice, and then a woman’s no-nonsense voice was in his ear.
“Emerson Law.”
“LaDelle, this is Mack Jackson. Is Mr. Emerson in?”
“Oh, Mack, I am so sorry about your father. One moment while I connect you.”
Mack stood up and turned his back to the lobby as he walked toward the plate-glass windows. The sky was an odd shade of blue-gray. He hadn’t listened to the weather since he’d been here, but it looked like it might rain.
He saw Trey Jakes drive by in his patrol car and wondered if he’d heard from the lift company. There was a knot in his gut that kept getting tighter. He needed to know the truth about his father’s death. Had it truly been just a horrible accident, or had he been murdered?
“Adrian Emerson speaking.”
Mack jumped. He’d almost forgotten he was on hold for the lawyer.
“Mr. Emerson, this is Mack Jackson. I found a safety deposit key at my dad’s house. I’m at the bank, but they have to open the box in front of witnesses, including Dad’s lawyer, so I was wondering if you were free.”
“Mack, my condolences for sure, and I’m glad you called. I have about an hour before my next appointment. I’ll be right there,” Emerson said before he hung up in Mack’s ear.
At that moment Mack saw Trey Jakes go back by and realized it might be wise if he was present, too. He got out the card Trey had given him and made a quick call, explaining what was going on. Trey made a U-turn and beat the lawyer to the bank.
By the time the group assembled inside the vault, there were five people present: Gregory Standish, the president of the bank; his secretary, who would record the event; Adrian Emerson; Trey Jakes; and Mack himself.
He eyed the wall of safety deposit boxes with a mixture of curiosity and dread.
“What are you thinking?” Trey asked, as they waited for the secretary to get the recording equipment set up.
Mack shrugged. “That this might not amount to a thing, and that it might have been something he and Mom had together and he just forgot about it.”
“He wouldn’t forget,” Gregory Standish said. “Everyone gets billed annually for the rent, and he must have paid it every year or the box wouldn’t still be in his name.”
Mack gave up trying to figure out why it was here. They would find out soon enough.
“Okay, here we go,” the secretary said.
She took the bank key and Mack’s key, opened the door and removed the box without fanfare, then promptly pulled out a large manila envelope with Paul Jackson’s name on the front and handed it to the lawyer.
Emerson opened the flap and tilted the envelope, letting the contents slide out onto the table. The first thing he picked up was a piece of paper. He read it, frowning.
“It appears to be a list of the items in the envelope. The heading reads, ‘Property of eighteen-year-old Paul Jackson of Mystic, West Virginia, removed from his person in ER during triage.’”
Trey Jakes’ heart skipped a beat as he glanced at Mack. That damn wreck was going to tie the deaths together after all. He could feel it.
Mack frowned at the odd assortment of items as they were being listed.
An old wallet containing a five-dollar bill, a condom still in a wrapper and a school picture of Trey’s mother, Betsy.
A stained tassel from a graduation cap.
A folded-up program from graduation night.
A handful of coins totaling a dollar and twenty-three cents.
“I believe that’s all,” Emerson said, then absently checked the inside of the envelope. “Oh, wait! There’s something else.”
He pulled out a smaller envelope.
“It has Mack’s name on it,” Emerson said, handing it to him.
Seven
Mack didn’t know what to expect, but he wasted no time opening the envelope. His eyes widened as he scanned the text, then he took a deep breath and handed it to Trey.
“I think this is something you’re going to want to read.”
“Please read it aloud for the record,” Emerson said, as Trey took the letter.
Trey nodded.
“Mack, if you’re reading this and you are questioning my death in any way, there’s something you need to tell Trey Jakes. The tassel in the envelope does not belong to anyone from the wreck. The night of our graduation, before we ever left town, we gave our caps and gowns to our parents. I was told the tassel was in the pocket of my pants. I have no idea how it got there, but it was bloody, as was everything else I’d been wearing, so they thought nothing of it. I don’t remember the wreck or what we’d been doing before it happened, but after Dick died, I began having dreams, and one of them had to do with that tassel. I kept seeing a boy’s body on the ground, holding a tassel soaked in blood, so maybe it was already bloody when I put it in my pocket. Maybe they can get DNA off it. Maybe it will help figure this mess out. I don’t know what happened, but I think the four of us were a part of something bad. I can’t bring myself to believe we caused it, but we were so drunk when we had the wreck there’s no telling what might have happened beforehand. I want to think we witnessed it. I want to think we were on the way back to Mystic to get help when the wreck happened. I want to think that, but I’m not sure. All I know is that I’ve had a feeling in my gut ever since Dick’s murder that either Betsy or I could be next. You know how much I love you. You know how proud I am of all you’ve accomplished. Live your life. Don’t waste it. Go make peace with Melissa. I know you still care.
Dad.”
* * *
The silence in the vault was telling. The banker, Gregory Standish, was pale and shaking as he stared down at the rusty-looking tassel in disbelief.
“So that’s not dirt on there,” he muttered.
Trey pulled an evidence bag out of the inner pocket of his jacket, and bagged and tagged it in front of them, then pocketed the letter.
“I need to get this to the state lab,” he said, patting the pocket where he’d put the letter. “I’ll make sure you get this back.”
Mack shook his head. “I don’t want it. I know he loved me. That message was for you.”
Trey glanced at his watch.
“The serviceman is coming to the garage to look at the lift in about a half hour. I need to be there to let them in. Do you have the keys to the garage on you, Mack?”
Mack nodded. “I’ll follow you there.”
Trey pointed to the banker and his secretary.
“Everything you heard in here is confidential because it’s directly connected to an ongoing murder investigation, so I don’t expect to hear any gossip around town, understand?”
Standish and his secretary both nodded.
Satisfied he’d done all that was needed, Trey headed out, leaving the others behind in the vault.
Mack was shaken as he glanced over at the lawyer.
“Mr. Emerson, I don’t suppose you need me anymore. The box has been opened and the contents recorded, right?”
“Right. An inventory of the contents will be included in the papers when his estate goes into probate.”
Mack nodded, then shook hands with the banker. “Thank you for your assistance and consideration.”
Gregory Standish turned on the charm. “You’re entirely welcome, Mr. Jackson, and on behalf of all of us here at the bank, please accept our condolences on the loss of your father.”