Chapter 3 #3
‘So, let me get this straight,’ Alice said, using her fingers to count out the points. ‘You took a break for a family emergency, but your business contacts think you’ve acquired something new in that time and now they’re stalking you to find out what it is.’
‘I think so. Pretty much.’
‘And this is normal for you?’ she asked incredulously, making me laugh.
‘I mean, it’s not every-day normal, no. But, considering the type of people I deal with, it’s not completely out of the question.’
‘Okay,’ she said, still sounding wary. I was all right with that. Wary was good. ‘So what now? Can’t we just call your mom and ask her where the jewelry is, rather than us having to waste time playing games?’ Alice asked.
I swallowed hard, knowing that this was the hardest thing to have to explain.
‘She was killed,’ I said. ‘Eight weeks ago. In an accident.’
Alice gaped at me. ‘Oh my God, Kendra. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know …’
‘It’s okay.’ I refused to meet her eyes, not wanting to see the heartbreaking sympathy in them. I’d gotten used to that reaction and it only made me feel worse.
‘I’m sorry. What about your dad?’
‘My mom was a single parent. I never knew my dad.’ My words came out flat, emotionless, and I really wished we were having this conversation somewhere private instead of on a bench in a park. This was the last place I wanted to have another breakdown.
‘You’re on your own?’ Alice asked.
‘Yeah.’
‘What about other relatives?’
I sighed. ‘My grandparents died when I was a kid, so I barely remember them. My mom has a brother but …’
‘But?’ she prompted.
‘He has a nice life,’ I said, aware of how pathetic that sounded. ‘He teaches grade school in a little town in the Catskills and lives with his husband, who’s a mechanic, and their two adorable kids.’
‘That does sound nice.’
‘Right. Mitchell is, like, twelve years younger than my mom. He never wanted anything to do with the antiques business.’
He knew, of course, about the shop’s underground network of thieves and criminals and had distanced himself from it as much as he could. I couldn’t blame him. This lifestyle didn’t suit everyone.
‘And you don’t want to go live with them?’ Alice asked.
‘It’s not that.’ I stretched my legs out again.
‘When my mom died, Mitchell and Blake came to stay with me at the apartment until the funeral. Then for the next week or so they switched out, sleeping on the couch one at a time to keep me company while the other took care of the kids. In the end I sent Mitchell back. He has a job, and a life, and I have that too. Except mine is here and his is upstate. They would have made space for me if I wanted to move in with them.’
‘But you didn’t.’
‘No,’ I said with a smile that felt forced. ‘My life is here, Alice. My mom planned for me to run Walker Antiques one day. None of us thought it would be this soon, but I’ve always known that I would inherit the business eventually.’
‘That’s a lot of responsibility for someone your age.’
I shrugged. ‘I just turned nineteen. I can manage.’
Alice sighed heavily. ‘That’s … fucking hell, Kendra, that’s a lot to deal with.’
‘One thing at a time,’ I said. ‘Anyway, that’s why I can’t just call my mom and ask her what happened to your jewelry. But the good news is, she clearly wanted me to know she’d put it somewhere for safekeeping, and she created a scavenger hunt and left me clues to follow so I can find it.’
‘And S A S is the next thing we need to figure out?’
‘For now. Yeah.’ I desperately wanted to move this conversation along, away from my mom and my personal tragedy. Having something to research was good – it would keep my mind busy.
‘Where should we start?’ Alice asked, pulling out her phone.
‘Wherever you like,’ I said. ‘Your guess is as good as mine.’
We started in the most obvious place, by googling ‘SAS’. It didn’t help much – my instincts told me my mom’s message was unlikely to have anything to do with Scandinavian Airlines or the British Special Air Service.
Kendra. SAS. Mom.
I tapped my fingers against my knee, trying to make it make sense.
My mom had already led me to a big and important New York landmark.
Was I looking for another landmark? Or maybe the ticket for the tour of Grand Central was a hint that I needed to find another ticket.
So maybe Scandinavian Airlines wasn’t such a wild idea?
My mind circled around the possibilities, looking for a pattern, or a connection.
Out of curiosity, I pulled up Google Maps and zoomed in on Grand Central Terminal.
The street names around the building didn’t fit the clue – it was bracketed by 42nd and 45th Streets to the south and north, and Park Avenue split to go around it.
I zoomed out a little and a building name popped up that looked promising.
Two blocks over from Grand Central was the New York Public Library, labeled on the map as the Stephen A …
I clicked on the map to bring up the full name.
Stephen A. Schwarzman Building.
Deep down in my gut, I knew this was it – it fit, the library was a place my mom and I had often visited together, and the beautiful simplicity of the clue was a hallmark of my mom’s puzzles.
I loved knowing her well enough to understand how she wanted me to think and interpret the messages she had left for me.
It felt like she was reaching out, through the universe, and giving me a warm, knowing smile.
‘I’ve got it.’
‘Really?’ Alice said. ‘Already?’
‘Yeah. It’s the library. The building is called the Stephen A. Schwarzman Building.’
‘I didn’t know that. Shall we go?’ Alice asked, with a tiny smile.
I glanced around, suddenly remembering that we’d been trying to hide from the guys who had chased us out of Grand Central, and cursed myself for dropping my guard.
My heart started to beat a little faster as I scrutinized the people walking past – the woman with the little frou-frou dog, teenagers on skateboards, a guy wearing a shirt with his suit jacket thrown over his arm, talking furiously into his phone.
For now it looked like we were safe.
‘Yep, we’re on a roll,’ I said. ‘Might as well keep going.’
‘Great,’ Alice replied. Then she hesitated and her expression grew sympathetic again. ‘Are you okay? We can pick this up again tomorrow if that would be better.’
The insinuation that I was anything less than 100 per cent fine was enough to motivate me.
‘No, I want to go now,’ I said, and Alice nodded.
‘I’m with you,’ she replied.
I kept to myself the silent wish that Alice would just leave me alone.