Something was wrong, said the little voice in his head. He stood still in the middle of the room, just absorbing the atmosphere for a few minutes. At first, he couldn’t pinpoint what was bothering him, but the feeling had been growing ever since he finished searching the living room. Maybe it wasn’t so much about what was in this room as what wasn’t in it. He looked at the large mirror hanging over the double dresser. Didn’t little old ladies love to tuck pictures of their grandkids into the sides of their mirrors? Didn’t they love to plaster the walls of their houses with photos of drooling babies? Wasn’t that, in fact, the trademark of grandmas everywhere? So, where were they?
Zach thought back to all the rooms he’d searched. There wasn’t a single photo album, scrapbook or portrait anywhere. This room, this whole house, was almost impersonal. No mementos of her past. Didn’t grannies all live in the past? Especially one as ancient as Gamma? What possible future could she have? It was all past for her but where was it?
He thought he might be on to something. Maybe he wasn’t simply crazy or insanely suspicious. Emboldened by the idea, he felt ready to tackle the hardest part of this search. Her clothes. At least that was personal. He checked the closet first. Nothing but flowery house dresses which was practically Gamma’s daily uniform. No secret panel in the closet wall. He moved on to the dresser. He’d deliberately left that for last. First, he glanced out the window again. He had to wrap this up soon because if she walked in now, he really couldn’t explain what he was doing in here. He started with the bottom drawers. Lots of sweaters. Did she even own a pair of slacks? He doubted it. Probably before her time. He finally came to the top dresser drawer. The one he dreaded. Her “drawers” drawer. He turned his head aside, as he slid it open. The idea of old lady undies creeped him out. A wry thought occurred to him. His grandfather used to call them foundation garments. Maybe that would make it easier. Not panties and bras—foundation garments—like something you’d use to build a skyscraper. Still, even with the new terminology, the thought of rooting around inside the drawer made him feel like a real pervert. Stories he’d seen in the news about weirdos who liked to cross-dress flashed through his mind. He suppressed them.
He kept his eyes half shut as his fingers worked their way from the front of the drawer to the back. His eyes flew wide open when his hands touched something tucked into the very back corner of the drawer. It was a piece of paper, creased up and folded many times.
He drew it out carefully, replacing all the foundation garments he’d disturbed in his search. Then he sat down in the middle of the carpet and unfolded the sheet of paper. It was a letter. He began to read:
My Dear Little Sis,
I’m sitting here writing this and hoping that you never have to read it. The only reason you would come across this letter is if I’m gone. Maybe the danger will pass, and I can destroy this. Maybe not.
There are times when my work can be risky. This is one of those times. I’ve come across a find that has immense value to the people I work with, but it looks like somebody else wants this find too. Somebody who would be willing to kill for it. For the past week, I’ve gotten the feeling I’m being followed. It might be my imagination. In case it isn’t and in case something happens to me, I want you to call the number I wrote on the back of this sheet. Ask to speak to Faye. Give her the packet. She can explain everything.
There’s so much I want to say, but there isn’t enough time, and maybe it only comes down to this. I love you and everything I did, even when you didn’t understand it, was to keep you safe. No matter what you might have thought, I was always looking out for you.
Love,
Sybil
Zach looked up from the sheet. He could feel the blood draining out of his face. That must be what shock felt like. A cold, numb sensation. He stared back down at the page. One line leaped out at him. “Ask to speak to Faye. She can explain everything.” He didn’t know who the letter had been written to but whoever it was had been directed to find Faye. She supposedly could explain everything. Everything about this so-called find that somebody might have gotten killed over. His Gamma could explain a thing like that?
He laughed to himself bitterly as a new thought struck him. He’d often said, “Gamma, you’re something else.” For the first time, he realized the irony of that simple phrase. She really was something else. Something other than a grandmother. Something other than a harmless little old lady. But what?
He folded the letter and returned it to its hiding place at the back of the dresser drawer. He needed time to process all of this. Time to let it sink in. He wasn’t going to confront her right away. First, he needed to think. Then he would ask. He was already dead certain he wasn’t going to like the answer.
Chapter 31 – A Little Night Music
The driver slapped on the brakes and jerked the steering wheel sideways. Two of the car’s tires hopped the curb as he took a sharp corner. Daniel slid across the slippery back seat and slammed into Hunt’s shoulder. The latter shrugged him off with ill-disguised contempt.
The driver yelled curses out the window in Turkish at a passing vehicle which he had nearly sideswiped.
Daniel was grateful he didn’t understand what was said but was sure it somehow involved the
