1
BECKETT
Age 13
I saw Riley sitting on the front steps when I rounded the corner from the barn. His eyes were downcast, hands hidden in the material of his long-sleeved shirt despite it being a warm day. He hadn’t said much since he arrived two weeks ago, but I’d heard him crying from across the room every night. I wanted to help him but didn’t know how.
I held up a bucket that was overflowing with lures, bait, and Twizzlers that I’d snatched from the treat jar in the kitchen.
“I’m heading to the creek,” I told him. “I wouldn’t mind some company.”
Riley pulled at the sleeves of his shirt and mumbled a quiet, “No, thanks.”
I didn’t know how a thirteen-year-old was supposed to comfort a ten-year-old, but I couldn’t just leave him there alone. I set the gear against the rail, then took a seat next to him.
“I was scared too, you know. When I first arrived.”
He tucked his wrists to his neck, trying to hide, and still said nothing.
“My mom’s in rehab, so I don’t know how long I’ll be here,” I admitted. “I have a sister too. Natasha, but I call her Tosh. She’s twenty-one, but she couldn’t take me when mom got in trouble.”
Riley cast me a nervous, shy glance, his gray eyes bright in the noonday sun. It was over eighty degrees already, he had to be roasting in the long sleeves. It was making me sweat just looking at him.
“Aren’t you hot? We can go swimming.”
He shook his head and curled into himself even more. Something about it reminded me of Tosh, the way she liked to cuddle with a pillow when she was upset. I knew he had a stuffed dog he held every night, but maybe I could give him my red blanket. I didn’t use it anyway.
“You don’t have to tell me why you’re here if you don’t want to. I just wanted you to know you weren’t alone. Do you have any sisters or brothers?”
Dark hair swept over his eyes and I heard a soft sniffle a few seconds before he wiped at his face.
“Shoot, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you cry.”
“He’s… he died,” Riley said softly. “A few years ago. He was only one and tripped down the stairs. That’s when Mom started drinking. One day, she just didn’t wake up.”
I put a hand on his back and gently rubbed because it felt like the right thing to do and I couldn’t not do anything. “I’m sorry,” I said. “What was your brother’s name?”
It took Riley a long time to answer, but when he did, he turned to look at me, his gray eyes piercing me.
“Preston.”
***
“Thank you for meeting with me,” Ted Summers said as he stepped into my office and closed the door.
“Of course. Please, sit.” I gestured to an old folding chair set up against the wall, while I pulled my own chair out from behind the folding table I used as a desk. The oversized leather chair needed another layer of duct tape in some areas and often groaned in protest when used, but it held up just fine.
My office was barely more than a sparsely furnished, large closet, but it worked well for me. It wasn’t for a lack of funds that I rented this space, just honest to God lack of motivation to find somewhere more suitable. I did most of my work from home, only stopping in here when I needed to. We were meeting here now because it was next door to where Ted was meeting with his wife for lunch.
“What can I do for you, Ted?” I asked.
Ted Summers was a confident man, with a large frame and big brown eyes. He seemed tired, but I knew his grandfather recently passed away, which meant that not only was he grieving the man he idolized but also dealing with the handling of grandfather’s will. On top of that, they were managing several properties and working through his ever-endless list of investments. It was sure to be a daunting task. Their family was one of the wealthiest in the state, if not this side of the Mississippi River.
“I’d like you to find something that was stolen from my family,” Ted said as he slid a manila envelope along the table towards me.
Inside, I found two bundles of paper, each held together with a paperclip. I picked up the thicker of the two which outlined in great detail the missing item. It was a beautifully crafted wooden box with ornate jewels embedded into the lid. The box itself wasn’t very big, roughly the size of a large cigar box, and consisted of two different types of wood in contrasting colors. The sides were a smooth ivory, but the joints and lid were made of a darker wood that had some sort of snakeskin pattern. Nested in the lid were three each of sapphires, emeralds, and rubies arranged in an ovular design. The part that intrigued me the most were the two keyholes in the front, set about two inches apart. One was brass, the other an antique pewter, both the same size.
“This is beautiful,” I commented, tracing my finger over the picture.
