The Legacy: A Kimberly & Sykes Mystery Novel (6 page)

Lauren changed into a pair of sweatpants and loose top and thought about what Sykes had said. She tried to imagine her father holding fifteen million dollars of diamonds. What does fifteen million in diamonds look like? Would they be a handful or more than a handful? Would that be three or four stones or hundreds of stones? Lauren stopped and smiled. She, too, had called them ‘stones’.

A noise from the den brought her back from her contemplation. She took an  elastic band from her dresser and pulled her hair into a pony tail. Next, she took off all the jewellery she had put on only a few hours before and, after caressing her mother’s pieces, put them back in her jewellery box.

Lauren stood before her dresser mirror and leaned forward to get a closer look at her face. Something had changed in her, she could feel it in her gut. It wasn’t just a new awareness about her father, it was bigger than that. A virtual stranger, a man, was sitting in her home. Lauren wondered why it felt comfortable. She had invited Sykes in to her home without thinking. Something had shifted, yet though she examined the details in her face, everything looked the same.

Lauren watched Sykes from the doorway of the den. He was in the process of moving boxes closer to the chair, unaware she was watching him. A loud grumble from her stomach reminded her that she hadn’t had anything to eat since mid-afternoon. Leaving Sykes to the boxes, Lauren went to the kitchen.

Sykes called from the den as she was putting cheese, olives, bread, tapenade, and prosciutto on a tray.

“These are all your father’s papers? This is everything you have?”

“Yes, that’s everything.” Deftly cutting bread and cheese, Lauren continued “I went through it twice; last night after Smith called and most of today. I didn’t come across any information about diamonds or analyzers.”

Sykes grunted in response.

Lauren stopped, the bread knife suspended, about to tell Sykes about the letter her father left, then thought better of it. It was rambling nonsense and wouldn’t provide Sykes any insight. If she couldn’t figure out what her father was saying there was no reason to think Sykes would be able to. Several boxes were open and their contents strewn over the floor when Lauren went back to the den carrying the tray laden with snacks.

“I’m starved. There’s food here if you want some, and white wine is in the fridge.”

“Great! Thanks so much. I frequently forget to eat.” Lauren marveled at the ease in which Sykes got up from his cross-legged position on the floor. “Where do you keep your wine glasses?” he asked.

Her mouth too full to talk, Lauren used hand signals to indicate the glasses were in a top cupboard in the kitchen. She felt rather childish not offering Sykes the Waterford crystal ware that she was using, but, so what? Sykes can use the regular everyday glassware. He returned with a large glass of wine and loaded up a plate full of food, putting them both on the floor. With one smooth movement he was back in place next to them. “All I’ve come across so far is old bank statements, warranties, manuals for small appliances and electronics, and a lot of receipts,”

“It’s pretty much the same in all the boxes that have paperwork in them. I threw away a bunch of receipts from a variety of fast food places last night, but that’s about it.” Lauren was painfully aware of how trite it all sounded. Sykes, on the other hand, didn’t seem to notice. He was one-handedly going through the papers while alternately eating or drinking with his other hand. He stacked the papers in piles but they had no discernible pattern as far as Lauren could see. Occasionally, Sykes would read something and glance away. Though his eyes appeared to focus Lauren could see he had an inner focus: after several seconds Sykes would put the paper down and carry on. Once, when he caught Lauren’s eye he surprised her by smiling.

For her part, Lauren was sitting back on the sofa lost in thoughts of her own. In twenty-four hours, her life had turned upside down. It was surreal in many ways and yet, what disturbed her most, was how comfortable she was with Sykes in her space. Of everything that had happened, it was her attraction to this man that stood out. The way he seemingly looked at her, but was actually lost in thought, reminded Lauren so much of her father. Her father would seem to be present when he was actually off somewhere in his head and oblivious of her need for his attention. Sykes at least was aware of her presence. His eyes caught hers again.

“Why do you keep looking at me?”

“Sorry.”

“That doesn’t answer the question. You seem to want to watch me without me noticing!”

“Sorry.” Sykes said with a laugh. “No, really. I’m sorry. I’m not trying to weird you out; I am just trying to make sure you still feel O.K. with me doing this.”

“I don’t have any other choice do I?”

“Look…Lauren..” His voice sounded sad and wistful. Lauren moved to the edge of the sofa letting Sykes gather his thoughts. “I have yet to go through my wife’s things.” Lauren gasped and lifted her hand to her throat.

“She died. Two years ago. Cancer. It was sudden.” Sykes got up and stood silently with his hands in his pockets. “Do you mind if I get a refill?” Lauren waved her hand towards the kitchen. She was glad to have a few seconds alone – Sykes had a wife? - She had been unprepared for the unexpected turn the conversation had taken. Sykes came back and sat down on the floor with his glass of wine.

“I didn’t deal with her death very well and just threw everything into boxes just like these. I haven’t opened them since. I need to. You know, get them sorted out. So, ‘erm... well, I keep thinking about her and wondering how you feel having a stranger go through your dad’s things.”

“I am so sorry.” Lauren wanted to say something appropriate but all she could come up with was, “I can’t imagine how it would feel to lose a spouse. This must be hard for you,” she said sweeping her hands over the spread of paraphernalia.

“No. I’m fine. I was thinking about you.”

The muted sound of traffic permeated through the closed window blinds. Lauren couldn’t take her eyes away from Sykes’ penetrating gaze and bent her head to hide the blush she knew crept up from her neck.

“I’m fine. I don’t have any attachment to this stuff. It’s just stuff. I… I have a letter. I found it, and a set of keys, last night.” The words slipped out and there was nothing she could do other than continue. “The letter doesn’t say anything about where he hid the diamonds and analyzer!” she said as Sykes eyes squinted at her. “It’s just a letter he wrote while he was obviously drunk, and the keys weren’t even with the letter, they were in another box.”

“Can I see them?” Sykes said through clenched teeth.

Feeling thoroughly embarrassed, Lauren went to her room and returned with the envelope and keys. She took the letter out of the envelope and handed it, still folded, to Sykes. He held out his other hand. Lauren dropped the keys in his outstretched palm. 

With a cursory glance at the keys, Sykes moved to the armchair and started reading the letter. Lauren watched his eyes scan line by line and then begin reading again from the top. When he had finished reading the second time, Sykes closed his eyes and tossed the keys up and down in his hand.

“Tell me about the letter.” he asked.

“Tell you what? My father was drunk when he wrote it, that much should be obvious.” He raised an eyebrow and waited for more. “What? What do you want me to say? It’s a garbled note from a drunk! If you’re so clever you tell me what it says!”

Sykes looked over the letter once more and handed it back to her.

“I don’t think he was drunk at all. I think it’s in code.”

Two hours later, Lauren wanted to pull her hair out in frustration. She was still not convinced the letter was more than drunken ramblings but Sykes read the words in a different light. Where Lauren saw garbled ravings, he saw a writer focused on providing clues, not prose.

“If my father wanted to send me clues, why didn’t he mail the letter to me? He clearly knew where I lived.”

“Maybe he never got the chance. Since you didn’t pack the boxes we have no idea where this letter actually was. He could have had it on the kitchen counter ready to mail for all we know.” Sykes rolled his eyes and ran his fingers through his hair.

“Highly unlikely. And please stop rolling your eyes at me!”

Sykes opened his mouth to speak but changed his mind. He set his lips firmly together and lifted his hands up in mock surrender.

Lauren pushed her point. “It would have been addressed if he was planning to mail it to me. Check the envelope; it has my name scrawled across the front and he wouldn’t have written it like that if it was going to be mailed. I found it by chance. I wasn’t even planning on going through his boxes. It was only after Smith called yesterday that I spent half the night going through them.” Lauren paused and took a few breaths before continuing. “It could have been months, years, before I looked through the boxes. And what if I had just thrown the lot away? What good would his bloody clues be if I never saw them?”

Sykes took a moment before responding. “Your father was obviously not in a good frame of mind, who knows what he was thinking. The fact remains, he has given you a trail to follow and we need to start somewhere. Let’s start at his apartment building with his neighbours. You may as well get some shut eye. It’s too late to go anywhere now. We’ll head out at first light and find this cast making woman he is referring to. And, see if we can find what these keys are for.”

Lauren looked at the clock and saw it was already two in the morning. Sykes was right. It was not time to go knocking on doors and, maybe he wouldn’t be so keen to believe in his so called ‘clue’ theory after some sleep.

“OK” she sighed. When Sykes got up to leave, Lauren went to the window, raised a corner of the blinds, looking out to the street below. The car was still parked where she saw it earlier. She hesitated to tell Sykes, she didn’t want him to think she was paranoid. She made a decision. “You may as well stay here. I don’t have a guest room but the sofa is comfortable and I have spare bedding.”

“No, it’s OK, thanks. I should head home.”

“There are only a few hours of the night left. Really, it’s fine.” Lauren hoped she didn’t sound as though she was begging Sykes to stay. The car outside unnerved her and she felt safer with him around. Sykes’ eyes held hers for a moment as he came to a decision of his own. He gave one nod of his head, dropped down onto the sofa and stretched out. Comically, he turned on his side and shuffled around as he tried to get comfortable. Using his right arm as a pillow, he ran his left hand through his hair, cleared his throat and said a crisp ‘good night’ before he closed his eyes.

Lauren face creased in a frown. ‘What is he doing,’ she thought. Turning, she went to the hall cupboard and pulled out bedding, blankets, and a towel. With her arms full, she went into the living room and threw them on the floor next to the sofa. Sykes raised himself on one arm and looked at the pile of bedding on the floor.

“You can use a sofa cushion for a pillow,” she said and left him to get set up. She went into her bedroom and closed the door, checking the latch had caught.

Lauren sat on her bed. She was exhausted. She was so tired she didn’t have the energy to sit up straight. Her body sank into itself and her shoulders slumped, causing her head to drop forward. The last couple of days had drained Lauren mentally and emotionally. Being a social worker was a piece of cake compared to the wringer she had been put through. Once again she was reminded about her own odd behavior. Sykes was sleeping in the next room. She thought of the person sitting in the car outside and wondered who might be more dangerous. A shiver ran down her spine and Lauren got up, took her bedroom chair, and jammed it under the door handle.

Lauren’s fingers were shaking when she started to remove her makeup.  She held both hands out and focused on stilling the tremble. She was concentrating on her hands when she heard a sound outside her bedroom; Lauren tiptoed to her door and rested her ear against it. She could hear Sykes talking on his cell phone, or maybe it was her landline he was using. She could hear his footfalls on the wooden floor as he walked back and forth. Then, his voice went quiet. Lauren’s ears were in high alert listening behind the door when the sound of a car starting made her rush to the bedroom window. Peeking through her blinds she was just in time to see the suspect car drive off.

Another coincidence? Lauren wondered if Sykes had just talked to the man in the car? Surely not! Maybe the man in the car simply gave up waiting, she thought. Lauren wanted to confront Sykes but knew she needed to think this through. If Sykes was in collusion with the man in the car, he wouldn’t admit it, nor that he had lied earlier: if he wasn’t involved with the man in the car he would be angry at her accusations.

Having Sykes sleep on her sofa was no longer a positive outcome of her day. Realizing the predicament she was in, Lauren plopped down on the edge of her bed. She undressed and crawled in to bed overwhelmed by her feelings and mixed emotions. Hot tears ran down her face and dripped on her pillow.

A short tapping came from her door, stopping her sobs. Unsure what she had heard, Lauren sat up and tipped her head towards the door, ears on high alert. The sounds came again.

“Just a minute,” she sniffled. She quickly blew her nose and tried to compose herself. “What do you need?”

“Sounds like you could use a glass of water.” Sykes said from behind the door.

“It’s OK…I’m fine. Thanks.” Lauren put her ear on the door and listened to his footsteps retreating. She kept listening at the door until she was sure Sykes had gone. Lauren looked at her eyes in the mirror; they were puffy and bloodshot and her nose was red from blowing. What was worse, Lauren realized, she actually
did
want a glass of water. She took her cotton robe from the back of the bathroom door, pulled it closely around her and bound it tightly with the belt.

After carefully removing the chair from under the door handle, Lauren made her way on tiptoes to the kitchen. She paused to look at the prone body on the sofa and gasped when she saw Sykes looking directly at her.

“Sorry.  I do want some water after all.” Lauren reached into the cupboard to get a glass, and noticing the glass of water that Sykes must had poured for her, sitting on the counter. She picked it up and took a long drink before filling it again from the filtered water tap.

On her way back to her room she thanked Sykes for bringing her the water. Sykes eyes glanced over her body and Lauren pulled her robe more tightly around her waist. Sykes was propped against the arm of the sofa, his arms behind his head and the sheet covering him to mid-chest. The muscles on his arms were well defined and Lauren caught herself looking more closely than she should. Embarrassed with herself, she clutched the robe tightly at her neck. She tried desperately to send a message to her feet to move; but the synapses refused to work and Lauren was rooted to the spot.

Sykes’ eyes twinkled and the corners of his mouth turned up in a smile. It was as if he knew exactly what she was thinking. Lauren groaned. As if on cue, her feet finally responded and she turned and hurried back to her bedroom. She jammed the chair back under the door handle, pulled the robe off and threw it on the floor then jumped into bed and pulled the covers over her head in shame.