OF COURSE, some of this I’ve already told you. We’re back to where we started.
My first time walking into a prison. Putting my phone and change and car keys into a locker. Walking through the metal detector. Being brought to the place where you talked to inmates through the glass using a couple of phone handsets.
And now I was sitting in the chair, waiting for Trixie to be brought in. The door on the other side of the glass opened, and Trixie, in jeans and a pullover shirt, was ushered in. The female guard retreated to the other side of the door to give Trixie some privacy.
She sat down opposite me, picked up the phone.
“Zack, Jesus, what are you doing here?”
“Hi, Trixie.”
“I get this message, my lawyer’s setting up a meeting with you, very urgent. What’s going on?”
I took a breath. “I have some things to tell you, but I need you to remain cool when I do.”
“What?”
“Are you listening? You have to stay calm and listen to what I have to say.”
Her eyes danced momentarily. “Okay. What is it?”
“It’s bad,” I said, lowering my voice as I spoke into the receiver. “They’ve got her.”
Trixie’s mouth opened slowly in a silent scream. I didn’t have to say anything else, at least not yet. She had to know who “they” were. And I had no doubt she knew whom I was referring to when I said “her.”
She looked as though she’d lost the ability to breathe. She closed her eyes a moment, closed her mouth, breathed in through her nose. When her eyes opened, she asked, “Is she okay? Have they hurt her?”
“She’s not hurt,” I said. “Right now, she’s with Leo. Gary’s parked outside the prison, in his truck, waiting for me to come back.”
Trixie looked at me with eyes that were losing hope. “Claire? And Don?”
The Bennets.
I shook my head from side to side, no more than a sixteenth of an inch each way. Just enough to convey the message.
“Oh my God,” Trixie whispered. “Oh my God.”
I couldn’t help myself-it’s the way my mind works-but I thought of that scene in
She was crying, but trying not to attract attention to herself. Even in her grief, she knew that she didn’t want to draw the guard over. That might lead to questions. She found a tissue tucked up in her sleeve, dabbed her eyes.
“Trixie,” I said, “I need you to focus for me. I’m here-”
“I know why you’re here,” she said. A tear ran down her cheek. She sniffed, wiped her nose with the tissue. “He wants his money.”
“Yes.”
“And he’ll kill Katie if he doesn’t get it.”
“Yes.”
“How much does he think there is?”
“Half a million.”
“There’s not that much. There’s just under three hundred thousand.”
“I’m sure he’d be happy with that,” I said. “He might be angry at first, but if he can really get his hands on that kind of money, he’ll take it.”
Trixie swallowed, tried to pull herself together. “I can tell you where it is, but I don’t know how you’re going to get it. They’ll have to let me out, I can’t imagine any other way…”
“Trixie, they’re not going to let you out. There’s no way. Why would they have to?”
“It’s in a safety-deposit box. They’ll have to let me out, just for an hour.”
“Trixie, the only way they might let you out is if you tell them what’s going on, that your daughter’s life is at stake. The moment Gary finds out you’ve been released, he’ll know you’ve told them what’s going on. And then I don’t know what he’ll do.”
More tears now. But even though Trixie was in a panic, she was also thinking. For Katie’s sake. “Okay,” she said. “I’m going to have to tell you what to do. You’ll need to write this down.”
“They took my pen,” I said. “Just tell me.”
“You have to go to my house. Break in, whatever you have to do. Go to the upstairs bathroom, the medicine chest, take out the shelves, then you take out the back.”
“The back comes out?”
“It’s a false back. There’s a small storage area behind that. You’ll find a safety-deposit key and a set of ID. For Marilyn Winter.”
Christ. Yet another name.
“The box is registered under Marilyn Winter. There’s a color photo with the ID. It’s not the clearest picture in the world of me, but I’m wearing a red wig in it. You’re going to have to get somebody to go into the bank, with that ID, with a red wig.”
“Where do I find a red wig?” I whispered into the handset.
“In the basement closet. Along the wall with the straps and ropes and things, there’s a set of folding doors. In there, there’s a bunch of Styrofoam heads, each one has a wig on it. You’ll find a red one there.”
“Okay,” I said. “The wig, the key, the ID. I got it.”
“The box is downtown. I didn’t want it in the same town where I lived and did business. Might run into people who know me as someone else. It’s SunCap Federal. On Kingston, near Bellview. You know where that is.”
“I think so. I mean, yes. I can find it.”
“Okay, it’s box number 2149. You go in-well, it can’t be you. But whoever it is, you show your ID if they ask for it, but they might not if you’ve got a key, you tell them the box number, you sign in, they take you into the safety- deposit box room, you use the key to open the box, you take it into a little booth. The money’s in there.”
“Trixie, I don’t know where-”
“I know. You’ll have to find someone. Zack, you have to find someone who can pass as me.”
I was feeling overwhelmed. I couldn’t begin to imagine how we could pull this off, how we could give Merker what he wanted, how we could keep Katie alive.
“Maybe Gary knows someone,” Trixie said. “He knows hookers and dancers all over the place. He can find someone to be me for fifteen minutes. Someone who can wear the wig, do my signature. She has to sign in. They usually check my signature against the one they have on file.”
“Shit,” I said. “I can’t believe I’m even considering this.”
“And I can’t believe they’re gone,” Trixie said, wiping her nose again. “I did it all. I’m responsible for all of this. Gary didn’t really…they’re not really gone, are they? Claire and Don?”
I nodded.
“How…Did Katie see?”
“I don’t know. I couldn’t ask her that.”
“You’ve seen her?” Trixie brightened. “You’ve seen Katie?”
“Yes. She’s okay. But she’s pretty shook up.” The truth was, I didn’t want to know whether Katie had seen Don and Claire murdered. “She asked me to tell you,” I paused, having a hard time getting it out, “that she needed you to be her mother all the time now.”
Trixie dropped the phone, put both hands to her face. Her body shook. The guard took note but didn’t move. Inmates getting bad news, of one kind or another, had to be a pretty regular occurrence.
“Trixie, listen to me,” I said, the handset still resting on the counter. I rapped the glass. She pulled her hands away, her eyes red and raw, and picked up the handset. “Trixie, you can tear yourself up about this later, but right now, we have to get this money to Merker.”
She nodded, pulled herself together. “It’s in the box. He can have it all.” She paused. “I need you to let me know when it’s done. When they let go of Katie. I need to know that she’s okay.”
“I’ll let you know,” I said. If I was alive to, I thought.
