Chapter 13
Thirteen
M ax stifled a yawn as they got out of the car at Westwood Bank & Trust bright and early Monday morning. On Saturday morning, he’d asked Margot if she happened to have the key to her deposit box on her. To his surprise, she did. It was on her key ring. She kept a spare in her safe at home.
Armed with that information, he’d changed their flight reservations that afternoon, and they’d flown out of Minot on Sunday. They had a flight home at noon today, so here they were at eight a.m. on the dot.
He stifled another yawn as they reached the door. The hour was a respectable one, but he hadn’t slept much the last few nights. Too many thoughts of Margot and what they’d almost done running through his mind. Neither of them had the courage to bring up their kiss, despite already acknowledging that they wanted more than friendship. So, they’d continued on like nothing had changed, and he’d lain awake staring at the ceiling, contemplating what life with Margot by his side could look like.
Hushed air enveloped them as they stepped inside the two-story lobby. He always marveled at how a building with marble floors and high ceilings could be so quiet. It must have something to do with the acoustics.
He glanced up. Marble arches soared overhead. Above the teller’s desk was a wooden balcony, where he assumed the bank executives had their offices. Cream-colored walls kept the space bright and airy, but did little to muffle the sound of their footsteps on the marble floors. It was a stunning space and lived up to its slightly pretentious name.
Margot walked up to one of the tellers, who greeted them with a smile.
“Hello. How can I help you?” The woman, whose nameplate read “Brittney” asked.
“I need to get into my safe deposit box.”
“Of course. Do you have your key?”
“Yes.”
“Perfect. I don’t have access to that area yet.” She gave them a sunny smile. “I’m new. Let me get the manager. If you could meet us over by that door?” She pointed to her right.
“Okay, thank you.” Margot backed away and turned.
Max glanced around the nearly empty lobby as they wandered over to the area the teller indicated, noting the lack of other people. There were no other customers yet.
“It’s eerie in here,” he whispered.
Margot let out a soft chuckle. “Banks always remind me of funeral homes. Quiet and formal, with a hint of secrets behind the scenes.”
He snorted. “That’s the truth. But places like that—like this”—he twirled a hand—“always make me want to break the rules. When I was a kid, my grandma slapped my hands with her fan at a funeral once because I kept playing with my cousin’s braids while the preacher talked.”
Margot laughed, the sound echoing through the grand space. She slapped a hand over her mouth, amusement dancing in her eyes.
Max’s low laugh joined hers. “We’d both definitely get a swat if she were here.”
“Good thing she’s not.”
They reached the area near the vault, where the teller had asked them to wait. Margot took his hand and leaned into him, looping her other arm over his.
“You doing okay?” he murmured against her hair. She’d held up fairly well since her breakdown, but he knew grief could hit when it was least expected.
“Yeah. Ready to go home and hug my babies.”
Max was too. He missed the little rug rats.
Margot straightened, but didn’t let go of his hand as the teller walked up with an older gentleman in a suit who carried an electronic tablet in his hands.
“Hello.” He held out a hand. “I’m Andrew Skokar.”
“Margot Gaultier.” She let go of Max to extend a hand. “Nice to meet you.”
“Likewise. Brittney said you’d like to access your safe deposit box.”
“Yes.”
“Do you have an ID on you, ma’am?”
Digging in her purse, Margot produced her passport. Mr. Skokar examined it, then typed her name into the tablet he carried. It took just moments for him to verify her identity. “Very good.” He handed her the passport book. “If you’d like to follow me?” He motioned them toward the thick, steel vault door.
Margot tucked her passport into her purse and trailed behind him into the vault. Max hung back a bit with Brittney, not wanting to get in the way.
“Box 1538, correct?”
“Yes.”
Producing a set of keys from his pocket, Mr. Skokar walked down the row until he found hers, then unlocked it. Margot took her key ring from her bag and put her box key in the second lock and turned it. The door swung open a fraction. She removed her key and stepped back so the manager could take the box out of its cubby.
With a soft metallic swish, the box came free.
“Let’s go into one of our private viewing rooms.” He tipped his head toward the vault door.
Margot reversed directions, then they all followed Brittney down a short hall to a small room with a table and a couple of chairs.
Mr. Skokar set the box on the table. “Take all the time you need. When you’re finished, please come find me or one of the staff.”
“Thank you.” Margot offered him a polite smile.
“You’re welcome.” Bowing slightly at the waist, he left with Brittney, closing the door behind them.
“So, do you remember everything that’s supposed to be in there?” Max pointed at the box.
Margot blew out a breath and sat down. “Mostly. We might need to call Annabeth, though, and have her get into my safe. It has the list of the contents.”
He pulled out the chair beside her and sank into it. “Let’s see what we’ve got.”
She flipped open the lid.
Max let out a low whistle as he got his first glimpse of the contents. “Damn. These are some—” He broke off and shook his head. “Your parents gave you some nice stuff.” Just on top, he could see a diamond pendant that was probably ten carats. It hung on a platinum chain. Beside it was a sapphire and diamond bracelet. Pops of ruby red and emerald green shone in the overhead light. He saw some yellow topaz too.
“Yeah. It’s pretty, but I really don’t want their money. When I say they didn’t really want me, I’m not kidding. I had nannies from day one, and they left me with them frequently to go on all sorts of overseas trips. Even when they were home, I rarely saw them.” She picked up a sapphire and diamond bracelet, running her thumb over one of the stones.
“It just makes me feel dirty to have all this, you know? Like I’m just an employee or something they can throw money at to pacify. I’m glad now I never got rid of it, though. One day, I’ll divide it up amongst my kids. But until then, it can sit right here and gather dust.” She dropped the bracelet back into the box.
He reached in and picked up a coin on a velvet pad. “I’ve put some of my wealth in hard currency. Gold. Silver. But not rare coins or jewelry. It’s a good idea.” It was definitely something to consider. He was always looking for ways to diversify his holdings and to have more tangible assets. Stocks were great. Until the market crashed.
“I know some people who could help you with that. I’ve taken small amounts from my savings over the years and done the same thing. I brought those holdings down to Costa Rica with me.”
He glanced at her. “You did?”
She nodded, not looking up from combing through the box. “I have a few pieces of jewelry and some coins. They’re all at the house. I wear the jewelry from time to time.”
His brow furrowed, then his expression cleared. “The comb you like to wear. And that mother’s necklace.”
“Yep. I have a ring and a bracelet too. It’s not much, but I know it’s an investment that I can sell on a rainy day if I need to. I almost did when Tad left.”
“I’m surprised he didn’t take it and sell it. It would be easy money if he were gambling.”
Her hands stilled, then she looked up with wide eyes.
“What?” He frowned. “What did you remember?”
“I’m not sure. He came out of our bedroom once as I was coming out of the girls’ room, looking… just… nervous? Jumpy? I didn’t think too much of it.” She huffed and waved a hand. “But nothing’s missing that I can tell.”
“Maybe he switched out the stones for fakes. When we get back, we’ll find a jeweler and have your stuff checked.”
She let out a soft growl. “He better not have. He knew what that stuff was for.”
“Maybe to him it was a rainy day.”
Her gaze shot to his, fire blazing in her eyes.
He held up his hands. “I’m not making excuses for him. Just giving another perspective.”
Some of the starch left her shoulders, and she dug into the box again. “I know. I just wish I knew what he was thinking. What his reasons were for—” She stopped abruptly, her hands stilling. “What in the world?” She pulled a pocket journal from beneath a tray of coins.
“What’s that?”
“I don’t know.”
“It’s not supposed to be in there?”
“No. I’ve never seen it before.” She opened the cover.
Max peered over her shoulder. “It’s a ledger.”
“Of what?”
“Looks like business transactions.” A thought hit him, and he uttered a soft curse. “It could be bets. Money owed, and to whom.”
With round eyes, she glanced at the pages, turning a few. “This isn’t Tad’s handwriting.”
“You’re sure?”
“One hundred percent.” Margot looked up. “I went through medical school with the man and lived with him for almost seven years.”
“Okay. Put it down. It could belong to his bookie or even another gambler.”
She set it on the table. “What do we do with it?”
“I’m going to run to the drugstore I saw on the corner and get some disposable gloves. Then we’re going to photograph every page before we call Agent Gallagher. Asher can feed it all into an algorithm similar to what he built for Sam and Audra. Maybe we’ll get lucky and get some info. While I’m gone, check the rest of the box. See if there’s anything else in there that shouldn’t be. Maybe call Annabeth and have her get the content list?”
Margot sent a discomfited look his way, then scooted closer to the table. “You should probably alter our travel plans for the day too. I don’t think we’re going home.”