The Legacy: A Kimberly & Sykes Mystery Novel (7 page)

Her thoughts focused on Sykes, Lauren found sleep impossible. He was a good looking guy. Fit. Dressed well. Nice teeth. Polished shoes. All the factors that she would ordinarily checked out on a first date. But Sykes wasn’t a date! He was a guy who had been pushed into her life and it looked like she was going to be stuck with him until she found the missing things or gave up trying. Sykes was not what she expected from a security professional. There was a kindness to him that was unexpected and in conflict with the image he portrayed of himself - Mr. Cool, Calm, and in Control.

Lauren’s thoughts were interrupted by the unmistakable sound of knocking at the door.

“Yes?”

“I can hear you tossing and turning. Would you like to talk? You’ve got a lot going on right now and…I don’t know… some people find talking helps.”

Lauren picked up her robe from the floor, once again typing it tightly around her waist. Removing the chair from beneath the door handle she opened the door. Sykes raised an eye when he saw the chair in her hand but walked into the room when she motioned for him to come inside. He looked around the room and rested first on one foot, and then the other, before moving back to rest on the first. His hands were hanging at his side and Lauren noticed his finger tips were tapping his thigh in a silent staccato. Lauren wasn’t sure if inviting him in was the smartest thing she had done and hesitated by her bedroom door for a few moments. She savored Sykes’ discomfort, glad that the tables had turned so quickly.

Lauren passed the chair to Sykes. The corner of his lips twitched and his eyes appeared to twinkle. He placed the chair a short distance from Lauren’s bed and sat down. He was wearing his slacks and t-shirt and his bare feet stretched out in front of him, crossed at the ankle. Lauren sat on top of her bed covers and pulled the throw blanket over herself. She leaned back against the headboard and looked at Sykes with before glancing down and focusing on her hands.

Sykes’ eyes were hidden in the shadows but Lauren could feel his gaze on her. Leaning over to her side table, she switched on the bedside lamp. Sykes was definitely looking at her now, even if he hadn’t been before. Lauren pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around her lower legs pulling them close to her body. She rested her head on the top of her knees and waited for Sykes to speak. 

He spoke softly. “It’s O.K. to feel out-of-sorts. This is a strange situation for you and I’m sure you must be wondering what the heck is going on.”

“Out-of-sorts is a good way to put it. I am having a hard time trying to process everything. I mean, look at this,” she said pointing to him, “you’re sitting in my bedroom as though this is totally normal yet I only met you a few hours ago. This is just not like me. I don’t do this sort of thing. I feel out of control.”

“If it’s any consolation, this isn’t what my normal assignments look like either.” Sykes smiled as he tried to introduce some lightheartedness. “It’s usually big ugly guys that I have to deal with.” They both laughed.

Lauren stretched her legs and settled back against the headboard adjusting the throw around her. She had so much she wanted to say but didn’t know where to begin. She was aware of the soft feel of the throw still held gently in her hands and of the comfort provided by the oversized pillows the enveloped her back. She cleared her throat.

Sykes had watched all this activity with a smile on his face. The small creases at the sides of his eyes softened his face and Lauren felt herself relaxing.

With a tentative smile, Lauren closed her eyes slowly began to talk about her father; the man he was, and the man he could have been. When she was a child, Mike Kimberly had been physically present much of the time, but mentally and emotionally absent. He was so consumed with his latest ideas he had no time for Lauren, or her mother. When she went to her father for anything, he would simply send her off to her mother. When Lauren performed in school plays, or competed in sports events, it was always her mother who came to watch, never her father. Her mother helped her with her homework, tended her scrapes and bruises, and generally was her rock. When Lauren’s mother died suddenly, she had left two souls without a rudder. 

Mike Kimberly did the best he could and Lauren and her father did become a little closer, but it was a closeness brought, not of love or caring, but by need. Mike Kimberly was ill equipped to raise a child, never mind a daughter, and Lauren, at twelve years old, didn’t have the maturity to handle her father’s creative genius and inevitable failures and disappointments.

As her story unwound, at times Lauren cried softly, at others, she sobbed so deeply she could barely breathe. During these moments, Sykes would pass her tissues and water.

As the tissues piled up on her quilt and as the darkness began to welcome the light, Lauren still told her story. Sykes had moved from the chair to the edge of the bed where he sat holding Lauren’s hand. She felt safe and comforted. Sykes’ hands were softer than she could have imagined and Lauren could feel the strength running through his fingers. Eventually, she stopped talking. She was aware of Sykes’ thumb stroking the back of her hand. She looked at him through swollen eyes and saw that his eyes were closed. For a while he was unaware she had stopped talking.

Lauren allowed herself to dwell on Sykes’ face. She was examining the cleft in his chin when he opened his eyes. Lauren felt her heart catch and quicken under his gaze. Removing one of her hands from his grip she reached up and stroked his cheek feeling the stubble beneath her fingers. Sykes covered her hand with his own. They sat like that until Sykes gently removed his hand, taking hers with it. His lips creased in the smallest of smiles and he got up from the bed.

“There’s still a couple of hours of night left, time for you to get some sleep.” he said with a thick voice. He looked over his shoulder once as he walked out of the room.

Lauren woke at 8:00a.m. to the smell of fresh coffee. Damn. Oh well, nothing I can do about it now, she thought. First things first, she had to call in to work and let them know she was taking time off. Barry, her supervisor, usually arrived at the office at 8:30a.m. and Lauren knew if she spoke to him she would get the third degree. She decided the best course of action was to leave him a message before he arrived.

She has a large amount of accrued vacation and suspected Barry would be pleased that she was finally getting some of it off the books. Using the bedside phone, Lauren left him a voice message saying that she had an emergency to deal with and would be taking a week of vacation time.

That done, Lauren got up, took a hot shower and threw on a pair of jeans and a black cotton blouse. Looking at her jewelry collection Lauren decided against everything other than her gold stud earrings and Swiss Army watch. After a token look in the mirror, she fluffed her  hair with her fingers, squared her shoulders, and went in search of a coffee.

“Looks like you found everything you needed.” The coffee machine was still switched on and half a pot of coffee sitting ready to go. The frying pan was on the stove and eggshells and bacon wrapping sat in a neat pile at the corner of the counter. Lauren’s stomach grumbled and her mouth watered as she breathed in the aromas of bacon and eggs.

Sykes sat at the table, his breakfast dishes pushed off to the side. He held her father’s letter in one hand while a notepad filled with scribbles lay in front of him. As she sat down, he got up and handed her a cup of coffee. “Nice coffee,” was all he said.

For a minute their eyes locked. Sykes lowered his gaze and looked away. The connection was broken and Lauren took a sip of coffee to hide her embarrassment. She was convinced that Sykes must feel as embarrassed at her night time revelations as she was.

Lauren tipped her head to the notes Sykes had been making. Clearing her throat she said, “I still think my father’s letter is just a bunch of nonsense.”

“I know you do. Nevertheless, he took great effort to mention the ‘cast’ woman. As far as you know, he used to have parts for his inventions specially made - right?”

“Oh God, we went over this last night. Yes, he would have parts cast in plastic for his prototypes. Once he knew everything worked, the parts would then be cast in metal. However, as I said last night, I don’t know who the woman is. I was just a kid the last time I saw her.”

“Nothing rings a bell for you?”

“No”

Sykes tapped the pad with his pen. “Your dad must think that you would remember this woman. Maybe she was a friend of the family, or had an unusual name.”

Lauren drew her lips together and shook her head from side to side. “I have been thinking about this over and over and I still have no idea who this woman is.”

“Well, it’s all we’ve got so we may as well start with it. Are you going to have something to eat?”

“No, I don’t like eating first thing in the morning.”

If he thought this was an odd thing to say, Sykes kept it to himself. He drained the last of the coffee from his cup and put it in the sink together with his dirty dishes. He surprised Lauren when he ran the hot water, squirted a dash of dishwashing liquid in the sink and washed the dishes. She reached for his scribbled notes but couldn’t decipher his cryptic jottings.

While he wiped down the countertop, Sykes told Lauren the first thing they would do would be to canvass her father’s neighborhood to look for storage rental units. Sykes reasoned Mike Kimberly may have rented a workshop or stashed the analyzer locally.

“Let’s do a search online to find the local rental places,” suggested Lauren. Sykes dismissed her suggestion immediately. “Too many local businesses don’t have a web presence. We’re better searching on foot because local businesses still rely on ads pinned to community notice boards and telephone poles. Are you sure you are not going to have breakfast?”

“Yes, I’ll grab a muffin later.”

“O.K., suit yourself,” said Sykes. “I always eat when I can because too often ‘later’ never comes.”

“There are lots of coffee shops and cafes in my father’s neighborhood so finding something to eat won’t be a problem.”

“Do you have the keys you found in your father’s boxes?”

“They are in the den. I’ll get them.”

“O.K. Then let’s get this done. Let’s go find the woman who makes casts and hopefully the storage unit where your father has stashed the prototype.”

Once outside, Lauren wasn’t going anywhere until she had checked the line of parked cars to see if any were occupied. Her shoulders relaxed when nothing looked out of the ordinary. If Sykes saw her checking out the cars, he didn’t say anything.

They decided a drive through Kimberly’s neighborhood would be the best way to start; they could cover ground fast and the large commercial storage places would be easy to spot. If nothing materialized, then a street by street walk through would provide the opportunity to read notices posted on telephone posts and community notice boards.

The roads were busy and traffic was flowing smoothly. The drive across town was relatively uneventful. Lauren’s eyelids were heavy after her sleepless night and she yawned. Suddenly, Sykes jammed on the brakes and she was slammed forward. A pain shot across her chest and right shoulder as the seatbelt locked her in place. Sykes swerved towards the shoulder in a skid. A silver sedan sped past her door cutting in too closely. Immediately regaining control, Sykes sped up to catch the car. The sedan weaved in and out of traffic but was no match for the speed and agility of Sykes’ Audi TT.

Sykes pulled alongside the sedan and looked over at the driver. A man, he had a huge grin on his face and was giving Sykes a ‘thumbs up’ and ‘Victory’ sign with his fingers and thumb on his right hand.

Just as soon as it had started, it ended. Sykes lifted his hand and smacked it on the steering wheel as his speed slowed drastically. “Damn! Damn! Damn!”

Lauren’s seat belt finally slacked off and the shooting pain in her shoulder subsided. She lifted the seatbelt off her body and massaged her shoulder and chest.

“Did they do that on purpose?” 

“Yes. A kid. Wants to be a race car driver and decided to take us on.”

“What?”

“He is driving a souped-up car and thought racing a TT would be a good idea. It happens. One of the pitfalls of owning this car.” Sykes looked over and from the look on her face he knew she wasn’t convinced. “Lauren, if someone wanted to drive us off the road, they would have driven us off the road. And if someone wanted to scare us…let’s just say that would be a poor way to do it.” Lauren looked over her shoulder at the passing cars.

“Relax Lauren,” Sykes said. “It was just some idiot, trust me, I go through this all the time.”

Sykes’ white knuckles showed how hard he gripped the steering wheel though other than a small muscle twitched at the corner of his eye, his face was devoid of expression. Lauren knew Sykes was more concerned than his words implied.

When she slipped her hand under the seatbelt to keep it from making contact with her shoulder. the pain eased, either because of the healing warmth from her hand, or because the pressure of the seatbelt had been removed. In any event, she knew she would have a bad bruise.

Lauren remembered she had filled her travel mug with the last of the coffee, and took it out of her bag, sipping quietly. Lauren had never experienced anything like the events of the last few days and didn’t know anyone who had. She questioned if she was doing the right thing by agreeing to find the items her father was accused of stealing and she hated that she kept second-guessing her every move. She had made the decision to work with Sykes and clear her father’s name and that’s what she would do. Her stressful social work caseload seemed trivial in comparison to what she was going through and this lead to thoughts about her clients.

“Oh Shit!” she exclaimed.

“What?” Sykes looked at her with wide eyes and a startled expression.

“I should have been at court with a client today! I forgot all about it and didn’t give my boss a heads-up when I called in to say I wasn’t going to be at work.”

“Surely he would know you were due at court and would have assigned someone else to go in your place?”

“It’s not that simple. We manage our own court cases and this was a case that had been held over. Nobody else would have access to the case file because it’s locked in my file case. I have the only key, it’s a security measure. Christ! I hope it got adjourned without any problem.”

“They adjourn cases all the time, I’m sure it will all be fine.” Sykes’ words were of no comfort. Lauren’s client had been looking forward to getting this case resolved and it would be a huge emotional setback for her that Lauren wasn’t there. Lauren had been so caught up since the call from Adam Smith she had forgotten all about her court appearance.

She couldn’t remember ever having let a client down. Her clients were highly vulnerable and the system had failed them so many times she went to great pains to make sure she always delivered. Slamming her hand on the dashboard, Lauren was furious with herself. Her fingers fumbled in her bag until the found her cell phone and her fingers drummed on her knee while she waited for it to power up.

There were several calls in her phone log, but none were work related. There were no voicemails or emails from work either. Lauren exhaled loudly and slumped back in her seat. No news was good news she reasoned. If there had been a problem, her boss would have called her. He must have notified the Ministry lawyer and had the case adjourned when he got the message she had left.

Lauren stole occasional glances at Sykes but he seemed to be concentrating on the road. Once or twice he glanced at his cell phone that was sitting in the phone holder on the center console. Lauren sat up in her seat when Sykes pulled off the highway and into her father’s former neighborhood. For the next couple of hours they drove up and down every block in a five mile radius of Mike Kimberly’s apartment building looking  for storage rentals. It was time for Plan B. Sykes drove back to her father’s building and looked for a place to park.

Lauren had been too upset to notice the area when she was last there, this time she was dismayed to notice that it wasn’t one of the best neighborhoods in the city. The street was dirty; pockets of trash were caught by the wind and swirled along the sidewalk. What Lauren thought were piles of garbage turned out to be people sheltered under cardboard and plastic sheeting. She shivered and wrapped her arms around herself. A homeless person emerged from the confines of one such pile and stretched in the morning sun.

Sykes eventually found a parking spot a block from her father’s former apartment building. This time, they narrowed their search to a ten block radius and set out on foot. Lauren and Sykes meticulously checked every sign they saw whether on a telephone pole or store-front looking for signs advertising ‘storage or workshop for rent’. Mike Kimberly had to be able to go easily back and forth between his storage unit and his apartment. At least, that’s what they assumed.

The whole operation would have been so much faster if Lauren and Sykes split up and each took one side of the street, but Sykes refused. Working together, they went into every store asking if they had any storage space to rent, or knew of such a place nearby. They were clear to emphasize that they didn’t want storage immediately but were looking for their future needs. This way, if a business had storage, but it was all rented, they would not get a ‘no’ when in fact the answer was a ‘yes’.

Lauren became more and more frustrated as the morning wore on. They had been walking up and down block after block and driving around fruitlessly checking every possible location, but to no avail. Every street and building was investigated, but they didn’t come up with even the remotest possibility.

In a small single story mall they came across two mail-box rental businesses and Lauren felt for sure her father’s keys would open a mailbox. Lauren kept the clerk busy while Sykes tried the keys in all the locks but the keys didn’t work in any of them. They had struck out again.

After a few hours of this, Lauren’s stomach grumbled incessantly. Her feet ached, and she was tired and cranky. She snapped at Sykes several times until finally persuading him it was time to take a break and get something to eat. They decided on a cafe that sold freshly made salads and sandwiches, something to please each of them. Lauren perked up when she saw the list of speciality coffees available. When she approached the counter to place her order, Sykes tapped her on her shoulder.

“I have to check in, I will be right back. When you get your order sit at that table over there,” he said pointing to a table for two set back from the window. “I will join you in a few minutes.” Shrugging, Lauren went to the counter.

Sykes stepped outside and walked across the street where he stood in the shelter of an abandoned store front. From his vantage point he could have the privacy he needed to make his calls and keep his eye on Lauren through the large glass window. It wasn’t that he thought Lauren would take off; it was habit. Sykes had been doing this job long enough to know you can’t trust anyone, least of all a person under extreme pressure.  He could see Lauren quite clearly and could make out her hands as she gesticulated to the server. He smiled.

According to his phone log, he has missed a few calls including three from Adam Smith. After he checked his voice messages and email he placed a call to Smith. Lauren was now sitting at the table he had suggested. He watched her drink from a tall glass mug while he waited for Smith to answer the phone.