10 #2
“Of course. Of course. Let me think. There was the maintenance man who serviced the central heating and cooling system. But that was three weeks ago, and I followed his every step. He was never out of my sight. I’m aware how you feel about that.”
One of the specific duties for her position is that no one at all is allowed on the property without constant supervision.
“I make sure the cleaners go through each room together, so I can monitor every step they take. I’m very careful, ma’am. Very careful.”
“Okay, so no one else was here?” I feel deflated.
Mostly because that can only mean that it was Acacia.
Really, who else could it be? I don’t know her and don’t trust her, but it is disappointing, nonetheless.
I can’t entirely discount Rick, but I also can’t see why he would do such a thing now.
He’s had numerous opportunities in the past, and nothing like this has happened.
“There was the grocery delivery guy,” Helen says as if only just remembering. “He was new. I hadn’t seen him before.”
“This was when?” My pulse speeds up once more.
“Around lunchtime. As soon as you called saying you were coming, I set up a delivery.”
I launch to my feet, grimace and start to slowly pace. “How long was he here?”
“Twenty minutes or so, I’d say.”
“Did you take your eyes off him at any time?”
“I didn’t, no. Except . . .”
The silence echoing in my ear has me coming to a stop, waiting for the words that could prove the answer to this situation.
“I was putting the freezer items away.”
“You went into the pantry.” I say the words knowing this is the case since that’s where the freezer is. “He was in the kitchen, and you went into the pantry.”
“Yes, but—”
“Describe this man to me.” I start to pace once more.
Back and forth in front of the fireplace.
It’s a bit cool, and I wish there was a roaring fire.
But I’m not sure anything would chase away this chill.
It’s coming from deep inside me. All the way from the bone.
It’s making me feel a little crazy. I tremble at this sudden loss of control. This is crazy.
“He was tall. Dark hair. I’m not sure about the eyes. Something light, I think. Maybe blue.”
My gut ties into a few more knots, but I ignore it. I really need to calm down. I’m completely overreacting. “How old, would you say?”
“I’m not very good at guessing ages, but I would say twenty-something.”
“Was there a time when you thought this delivery person had left but he hadn’t?” I manage to ask the question a bit more calmly. Good. Maybe this bizarre hysteria is fading.
The silence that follows tells me I’m on the mark with my last question.
“When . . . when I came out of the pantry,” Helen explains, “I thought he was gone, but then he appeared with more bags.”
“How long was he out of your sight?” I close my eyes and wish away the lingering sensation of having lost all semblance of control. More slow, deep breaths.
“I suppose from the time I entered the pantry until he popped back in with the last of the bags, five or six minutes at most. Are you sure you’re all right, Dr. Belmont?”
Plenty of time to rush up to my room and drop the necklace in that drawer, I estimate. But who hired him to do this? That’s the real question here.
When I can speak evenly, I say, “Thank you, Helen. I’m fine. I apologize for bothering you. I guess this whole situation has me on edge, and I overreacted.”
“I’m so sorry about this, Dr. Belmont. I try very hard to be diligent.”
“This is an unusual situation. You did the best you could.” I am furious that I worked myself into such a frenzy.
I know better than to allow my emotions to get the better of me.
Not from the prestigious degree that hangs on the wall in my home office in Manhattan but from real life. This is not like me. At all.
“If there is anything I can do,” she offers, “please let me know.”
“Thank you, Helen. Good night.”
I end the call and take a moment to review the situation. I can’t see the delivery guy from Balducci’s doing anything like this with Helen close by. Or Rick, for that matter. At least I don’t think so.
Really the only logical conclusion is Acacia. She is the new variable in all this. I am already somewhat suspicious of her. Otherwise, tonight’s only real surprise is my bizarre bout of hysteria, which is finally starting to fade.
As for who set this in motion, I’m still leaning toward the probability that it’s my old friend—the one I trusted and adored. The one who disappeared the same day I did. With this conclusion comes the usual questions. What took her so long? And is there anyone else involved?
I would very much like to think that in the end the two of us will settle this between ourselves and leave the rest of the world out of it. But that likely isn’t going to happen. My old friend never really was one to play by any sort of rules. She lacked any sort of honor code whatsoever.
I think a moment about the necklace. It was a bold and telling move, no question about that. Did it startle me? Definitely. But then, I should have anticipated a bold maneuver after the leak to the Times.
Pressing on, I go from room to room on this floor searching every nook and cranny until I am satisfied.
By then the grandfather clock dongs twice.
Thankfully the panic and paranoia have mostly receded, and all I feel is exhaustion.
I discovered nothing else unexpected. Does that mean that we’re safe? Sadly not, but I did what I could.
As I drag myself up the stairs, one painful step at a time, Acacia appears on the landing. She has probably been listening and maybe even sneaking peeks at my frantic movements.
“Are you all right?”
Such a silly question. My entire body is screaming in pain. Only hours ago I abruptly lost the ability to control my emotions, which is so unlike me. I feel ready to collapse. My life as I know it may be over if I cannot stop the person or persons who want to destroy me.
Add to that the idea that the woman asking the question may very well be a part of the trouble.
So no, I am definitely not all right.
I pause and force a smile into place that is just as fake as the gold clad on that fucking necklace. “I couldn’t sleep so I went downstairs for a snack.”
“Is there anything I can do?”
I search her eyes, her face. Her concern appears almost genuine. But I have learned a number of her masks.
“I’m fine. Thank you. I’m sorry if I disturbed you.”
She walks me to my door. “I hope you manage some sleep now. Let me know if you need anything at all.”
I nod and watch her disappear into her room.
I’ll have to find a way to check that room as well.
I think of the poster-covered walls and canopy bed beyond that door.
If walls could talk, those would certainly tell a few tales.
Times I climbed in and out through the window—could have fallen to what would surely have been my death.
I sneaked a joint in once or maybe it was twice. So many memories.
Funny how back then I thought I was so smart and wise to the ways of the world. I was afraid of nothing.
The lesson I didn’t understand yet was that bad things don’t always come in a package that appears bad or with any sort of warning label. Sometimes the package is beautiful and welcoming. So much so you cannot resist opening it.
The biggest mistake of my life.