“What kind of key?” Lucy sips on her mimosa as she stares back at me with a look I’ll call dismay, though I’m pretty sure it’s uncertainty. “Are you sure it’s even from Max? Maybe this is some kind of game your sick professor is playing on you.”
I refrain from getting into the details of how the letter was addressed to Evie, and how no one else knew he called me that. Instead, I slide the key and the note across the table, watching her face as she studies them both. “Well, this is to a safe deposit box at the bank. I see them all day long. People use them to hide valuables, cash, or jewelry. Sometimes it’s just something special they don’t want to be lost. I bet that’s what he meant by levee. To a random person reading they’d assume it meant a place you two loved, but a levee is also a bank. Maybe he was telling you what to use the key for?”
I’m breathless. I have been since last night when I dismissed myself to sleep after Ryan’s face went white. He didn’t offer an explanation either, which seems odd. “Can you help me… get into the box, I mean?” There’s intensity in my voice that I know she picks up on. “If you wouldn’t get in trouble, I mean. I don’t want you to get in trouble.”
She flashes me a look, then glances at the key. “Everything is monitored. They have guards and cameras and I’d need ID or permission from the box owner to let you into the vault. Even then, who’s to say the box is still active. Those things require that someone’s paying the monthly fee. If they’re not, then everything gets auctioned off, just like that storage unit this Kate person found the letter in.”
My heart sinks. “Why would he write this letter, give me a key, then never mail it? Maybe he didn’t want me to find him. Maybe he’d changed his mind.”
Lucy shrugs, taking another sip of her mimosa. “Don’t take this the wrong way, Everleigh, but the guy was strange. He didn’t talk to his family, he didn’t have many friends, and he watched you like a hawk. He probably had some deal go sideways, and he had to find a way out of it. It’s been three years, and he hasn’t come back. The truth is, he might be dead by now, anyway. What does Ryan think?”
“He didn’t say much. He just kind of looked shocked.”
“Maybe he’s exhausted. I mean, sounds like yesterday was a nightmare of a night… and all he was trying to do was tell you he loved you.”
Guilt settles back into my stomach. She’s right. He did tell me he was in love with me yesterday. He also told me about a promotion that I completely flaked on celebrating. He was probably exhausted by me. Another layer of my bullshit probably had him climbing the wall, that’s why his face went pale and he decided to get ready for bed.
“What did Ryan say about Viktor?” Lucy takes another sip of her drink. “That had to hurt.”
I roll my eyes. “He was nice about it, in the way Ryan is nice about everything. Have I mentioned I don’t deserve him?”
“Maybe… that’s why you’re attracted to this bad boy, because subconsciously you believe Ryan is too good for you. But Viktor… is going to give you the spankings you deserve,” she laughs. “You should really be paying me. Fuck the therapist.”
“Yeah,” I say curtly. She knows I’m playing back.
“What?That therapist is clueless. She’d diagnose a baby duck with Stockholm syndrome. Besides, really… what is there to talk about? Max is gone and not coming back, Ryan and Viktor want to fuck, and this key isn’t going to change any of that.”
I let out a sigh, looking toward the plumeria that’s growing over the garden wall. It’s a cute little courtyard dining space that fills with tourists for brunch Sunday mornings, but Saturday it’s oddly empty.
Lucy reaches her hand across the table and grips my palm in hers. “I’ll take the key and I’ll see what I can find. No promises though, okay?”
I nod, taking twenty dollars out for the waitress before standing from the table. “Thank you! You’re—”
“Everleigh?” a deep voice says from behind me. I recognize the tone immediately. It’s the reporter that’s been on my ass since Max passed. He’s a tall, thin man with black hair and dark eyes.
I twist toward the gate and make my way out onto the street, Lucy behind me. We parked nearly a mile away. On the way in, it was a nice walk. On the way out I doubt it will be as enjoyable.
“Ms. Tyler, I’ve been calling you for an interview. It’s been nearly three full years since your fiancé disappeared. I’d like to run a story on you for the Times. People are really interested to see where you’ve been.”
I continue to walk side by side with Lucy, ignoring the reporter as best I can. Come to think of it, it’s not the same guy that questioned me when Max first disappeared. This guy has a skull tattoo on the left side of his neck. Odd placing for a reporter, I’d have remembered that. I’d also have remembered the deep black in his eyes.
“Do you want me to turn around and hurt him?” Lucy says with a smile. “I’m not above it.”
I glance toward her with a side grin that lets her know I’m down, though I know neither of us will go through with it. We tend to like our mimosa Saturdays a little more than concrete walls and prison bars. At least that’s what I think until I feel the man’s hand on my arm. He’s gripping me rather tightly. Tight enough that it sends a wave of anger up through my body and into my brain with all kinds of strange signals, most of them fight or flight.
“What the fuck?” I spin toward him, assuming he’ll let go, but he grips me harder, pushing me into the dark alley.
Lucy follows, smacking the man with her heavy bag, but he pushes her away with heavy intent, and she falls backwards onto the ground.
I hadn’t noticed until now how large he is. He’s six foot, maybe two hundred and fifty pounds.
“What are you doing?” I gasp, my heart racing. “You’re going to assault us for a fucking story?”
The man narrows his gaze. “I heard you two talking. I know there’s a key. Where is it?”
“A key?You want a key to a random safe deposit box you can’t open?” Lucy says standing from the ground.
The man shoves her down again. “This doesn’t concern you, bitch!”
