Chapter 38. 091499
(Sienna)
We spent the remainder of the winter break secluded in Noah’s house. Most of the time we were naked with our limbs tangled with the bed sheets. At some point, I thought I was gonna have a stroke after so many orgasms. They fucked me everywhere in the house in every imaginable position.
I wished we could have stayed longer in our little cocoon, but after the news about my parents’ murder spread in the tabloids, I took a flight to New York.
I hadn’t touched any of my parents’ stuff after their funeral, mainly because I couldn’t physically enter their room and my father’s office. Those two bedrooms still smelled like them. Every time I opened the door, I would have an anxiety attack and immediately close it again. This time, I promised myself I’d be strong for them. Maybe there was a clue somewhere in Moore Manor pointing toward the culprit.
What if they had received threatening notes like me?
My father was smart. If he had felt threatened at some point, I’m sure he would have saved enough evidence for my mom or me to find.
My phone pinged.
Maggie
Morning. When are you back?
Me
On Sunday. I’m in NY.
Maggie
NY? I thought you were with the boys…Is everything okay?
Me
I just came to see if I could find any evidence in my dad’s office. Maybe he kept something in the house if they were being threatened.
At least, that’s what the FBI believes. They’ll search my house tomorrow morning, but I wanna have a look around myself first.
Maggie
I wish I were there with you to hug you. I would have helped you search the house.
Me
Thank you, but I need to do this on my own.
Maggie
I get it.
Call me if you need anything xxx
Once I arrived home, Mrs. Bishop welcomed me and brought my luggage to my bedroom, but I went straight to my father’s office. I only had a few hours before the FBI barged into my house, and I needed to know if the people targeting me had anything to do with my parents’ deaths.
What if they believed I was also going with them to Cabo?
What if they planned to kill the three of us all along?
I was supposed to be on that flight but couldn’t stomach spending a week alone with them. My mom hoped that I’d change my mind, so she insisted on keeping my name on the passengers’ list. “Just in case,” she kept saying to me. Maybe they thought I’d be on that plane.
Goose bumps covered my skin.
I walked down the hall until I reached my dad’s office. I took a deep breath and opened the door. The moment I stood behind his desk, it hit me—a hint of musk, Cohiba cigars, and whiskey. A lump formed in my throat, and tears coated my eyes. I missed my dad. All I could think about as I stared at the two chairs facing his seat was how many times I lashed at them for sending me to Europe. If I could go back in time, I’d tell that naive girl to leave the resentment aside and tell them one last time how much she really loved them.
I sat on my dad’s chair and opened the first drawer. I took everything out and started going through every item and piece of paper.
* * *
Four hours later, I’d already searched half of his office, so I moved on to the bookshelves and checked book by book. I had already watched too many episodes of CSI , movies, and murder documentaries to know that some books could hide more than beautiful stories.
I smiled when I found some of our family photo albums. I didn’t remember the last time I’d seen photographs of my parents when they were younger, and I was a baby. There were pictures of my first few birthdays, holidays in South Africa, and school plays. I laughed when I found a picture of Ander and me. We probably were around seven and eight years old, smiling at the camera, dressed like cowboys, and holding hands. I took a picture and sent it to the guys in our group message.
Me
Look what I found *LMAO emoji*
Noah
Please tell me that boy is Ander *emoji with heart eyes*
Ander
Where the fuck did you find that?
I remember that day. You cried because I shot you, and you kept sobbing while screaming to your parents that you were dead and I wouldn’t play with a ghost.
Me
You always found a way to piss me off.
Zayn
Does that costume still fit you? I know someone you could ride with it.
Me
*rolling eyes emoji* Seriously, Zayn? I show you a childhood photo, and all you can think about is me riding your dick?
Zayn
Maybe I can put you on your four *wink emoji*
Noah
Count me in.
Ander
Any luck with the search?
Me
No.
But I’ll keep going until I’ve checked everywhere. I miss you all.
Noah
We miss you too. Come back to us. We need you.
My heart warmed with his words. How did I get so lucky to have the three of them in my life?
Me
I’ll be there on Sunday evening.
Noah
Make sure you rest these couple of days because the moment we see you, you won’t get any sleep *peach emoji* *cat emoji* *eggplant emoji* *drops emoji* *tongue emoji*
I laughed as I put my phone away in my pocket and continued with the task at hand.
I removed every book and flipped through the pages, expecting a note to drop, but when I placed a couple of books back on the shelf, I noticed something metallic on the wall.
A safe.
My parents never told me they had one. But why would they?
I removed every book from the shelf and looked for the manufacturer’s name. I typed the name on my mobile browser and checked different pages to familiarize myself with the type of safe. Based on the manufacturer’s official website, it could either be a four or six-digit code. However, given that six held sentimental significance for my dad due to my mum’s birthday, which fell on June 6th, 1976, I opted to take a guess. I grabbed a notepad from the desk and sat down on the floor. Before I attempted to try my luck, I guessed brainstorming a bit would not be such a bad idea. I wrote down his birthday, my birthday, and my mom’s birthday, but something told me that those would be an obvious combination for someone to figure out.
I tried a couple of combinations with no luck until something clicked in my head. I quickly stood, dropping the notepad as I walked with determination toward the safe.
091499.
The day my dad and William founded Cos Pharmaceuticals.
Bingo .
The safe opened.
I got so excited that I started jumping and crying at the same time.
I took everything out, except for a gun that I decided to leave inside the safe: a small box—slightly smaller than a shoebox—a couple of diamond necklaces from my mom that I recognized, a few Treasury notes, and some cash.
I took the box back to my dad’s desk and opened it. There were a few folded documents, some envelopes tied together with a thin manila rope, and a few notes joined with a paperclip and a photo. I turned over the photo. A younger version of my dad stared back at me. He looked happy, his arm around William’s shoulders. Another man was in the photo with a white coat who I didn’t recognize and a man in his twenties who looked familiar. I narrowed my eyes until it hit me.
Professor James Reed.
WHAT.THE.ACTUAL.FUCK.
I mean, he did say he worked at Cos Pharma for a brief period when I told him about the documents Ander found in his dad’s home office, but he never mentioned being this close to my dad. Why would he lie to me? They must have been close, even friends. Otherwise, why would my dad keep this photo?
I put the photo aside and grabbed the folded documents. They were printouts of what looked like financial movements, money coming in and out. The document at hand appeared to be a personal bank statement originating from an offshore account in Panama. However, there was no name associated with the account. A few particular movements on the statement were marked with a yellow highlighter, indicating significant deposits made from an account with the initials W.A.S.
I remember Michael and William mentioning that my dad would send money to an offshore account in Panama, and I wondered if these were the bank statements that proved it. But why would my dad keep something that could incriminate him?
I moved on and picked up the stack of envelopes. The moment I checked who sent those letters, my blood pressure rose.
Alexander Scott.
I turned them around, and there it was: my name, written in terrible calligraphy. These were the letters Ander wrote to me.
All of them.
Twelve letters.
I didn’t realize I was crying until one tear fell on top of the first envelope. I opened the first one with trembling hands and mentally prepared myself, but it didn’t matter how much I worked on my breathing…I knew his words would probably pierce my heart.
Dear Sienna,
I can’t believe you’re gone.
My dad told me that writing you a letter was a waste of energy, but I don’t agree with him. You were never and will never be a waste of my time.
I know you only left a week ago, but a lot has happened since then.
My parents have been arguing a lot in the last week to the point that I think my mom is going to leave my dad. She threatened him last night to file for divorce. If that happens, I wanna live with my mom. I hate my father.
Silvia asked me to say hi. She came with Connor and Gareth two days ago, and we watched a movie in my room. When she saw the DVD on my bedside table, she wanted to watch Pride & Prejudice, but I told her there was only one girl I would watch that movie with. Guess who?
How is your new school? Do you have a TV in your room? Do you share it?
I’ve checked the place out online, and it looks super cool. Have you made any friends yet? I want to read all about it.
I can’t stop thinking about you.
I miss you.
I want to kiss you again.
Yours,
Ander
PS Do you have a new phone? I have texted you, but you’re not receiving my messages.
I was sure I looked like a mess reading Ander’s letter. Also, fucking Silvia. I bet she was happy that I was out of the picture. I always suspected she had a crush on him, but I got my confirmation when I saw her arms around Ander’s neck in his swimming pool the following summer. I should have drowned the bitch when I had the opportunity.
I removed the paper clip from the notes, but one flew down to the floor. I picked up the piece of paper and placed it on the table.
I gasped.
I know what you did, and you will pay for it.
I picked another note.
I lost everything because of you.
Another note.
You can’t hide behind your money. I’ll fucking destroy you.
There were at least seven notes. I opened the gallery on my phone and searched for the pictures I had taken from the notes my stalker had sent to me.
Same font, same way of tracing the “y.” The same person who threatened my father and probably killed him and my mom was also threatening me and possibly trying to murder me, too.
I put everything inside the box and charged to my room to pick up my luggage.
“Change of plans, Mrs. Bishop. I’m flying back to California tonight,” I shouted while running upstairs. “Can you call an Uber?”