Get You Good (21 page)

S
ydney waited a whole day for him to come clean. Despite the fact that the copies of the keys were sitting on her dresser; despite the fact that every passing day increased their chances of not finding Sheree; despite the fact that Lissandra was wearing out her last nerve, she waited a whole day before doing anything. Though she knew in her heart that he had chosen to protect Sheree, she hoped that he would change his mind and tell her what he knew.

In that day, she went to see Dean. When she arrived at the hospital, she found Jackie and JJ talking with a group of doctors. Whatever they were talking about wasn't good, because Jackie was crying and leaning on JJ.

“What's going on?” Sydney asked, coming up to her mother and sister moments after the doctors had left.

“Mom, why don't you go back and sit with Dean. We'll be right in,” JJ said, opening the door to the room so her mother could shuffle inside. Sydney watched her mother move slower than she had in a long time. The last few weeks had changed her mother. The youthful look that she usually carried effortlessly was slipping away.

“Dean's regressing,” JJ said once Jackie was out of earshot. “A couple days ago, they noticed blood clots forming, so they put him on blood thinners temporarily. Unfortunately, the thinners caused him to start hemorrhaging in the brain.”

“Oh my God.” Sydney gripped her sister's hand tightly.

“They're doing all they can, but that's not the only issue.” JJ rubbed her eyes. “Dean's bills are piling up. You know he had no insurance, and he's too old to be considered Mom's dependent, so everything has to be paid out of pocket. Every day he's in here, it's more and more debt. Mom's thinking of taking out a second mortgage on the house. . . .”

“No.” Sydney shook her head. “She can't afford to do that. If she loses the house . . . no.”

“Well, do you have a better idea?”

“We have to take out a loan against Leroy's house,” Sydney said, letting out a deep, despairing breath.

JJ bit her lip. “You know, all three of us have to agree.”

“Don't worry, I'll deal with it,” Sydney said.

JJ looked at Sydney in concern. “Are you sure about this, Syd? I mean, you and Lissandra are pretty much in the hole, and things aren't that great with me either, with business slowing down at the dress shop since Mom and I are here so often. How are we going to manage the payments?”

“Don't worry about it,” Sydney said. “I'll take care of it.”

“All right.” JJ sighed. “But do it quick, 'cause I think the hospital is dragging its feet on treatment until part of the balance on Dean's medical fees is taken care of.”

“As soon as I get Lissandra's agreement, I'll call the bank to get the paperwork done up.”

“You have my OK,” JJ said. “Anything to get Dean through this.”

“Anything” was right. And as she stepped away from her sister to call Lissandra, she knew exactly what “anything” had to be.

“Speak to me.”

“All right, I've decided,” Sydney said. “No more waiting. It's time for Plan B.”

S
ydney's stomach was in knots and her nails were suffering. A spot on her pants was beginning to wear away, and a fingernail beginning to chip because of how long she had been scraping it against her jeans-clad leg. The sweat trickling down her spine despite the frigid air outside was enough to let her know that she was not OK. This was not OK. In fact, it was plain wrong. And she was woman enough to admit to herself that she was having second thoughts. Stealing Hayden's cell phone and breaking into his voice mail was one thing. But breaking into his home? Now she was entering felony territory. This was the kind of business that could get a sister sent to prison. And it wasn't like Hayden lived in some seedy apartment downtown. This was a two-story townhouse in Leslieville, where a desperate housewife, soccer mom, or recession-unemployment victim could be behind every sheer curtain.

“You ready, Syd?”

Sydney took a deep breath and scanned the street from the front seat of Lissandra's heavily tinted rental sedan.

“Syd, did you hear me? I asked if you were—”

“Yeah, I heard you,” Sydney snapped. “Can you just give me a minute?”

Lissandra squinted at her sister from the driver's seat. “Look, if you were thinking of backing out, I'm not going to argue with you. This is a whole new ball game. And we don't know what the deal is with his alarm system. . . .”

“It's OK,” Sydney said. “I got the code.”

All it had taken was a forgotten watch at Hayden's place. She'd had to time it right. If she had gotten to his home five minutes after he had arrived, then she would have missed spying over his shoulder as he punched in the deactivate code. But everything had worked out well. As long as he hadn't changed it in the past twenty-four hours, they would be fine.

“Even so, this is really toeing the line.”

Lissandra was wrong. This wasn't toeing the line. This was across the line and 20 meters away. If she got caught, there was no way she would able to explain it away. But the numbers on Dean's hospital bill had pushed Sydney over the edge. She had no choice. Since Hayden wouldn't volunteer the information she needed, she would have to find it herself.

“I'll make it quick.”

Lissandra pursed her lips. “All right, fine. Then you need to get your behind out of the car. We've already been sitting here too long. You know how white folk love to talk. Hmm, I don't know why your man couldn't kick it in a black neighborhood like everyone else.”

“Make sure you keep the line open,” Sydney said, slipping the ear bud for her cell phone headset into her ear before exiting the car. Pulling her wool cap down around her hair, she thanked God for the cold snowless day. It gave her a reason for the scarf, cap, and long coat, but kept her from leaving footprints as she walked down the sidewalk.

Lissandra's car drove past and headed around the block just as Sydney turned up the walk to Hayden's front door.

She rang the doorbell with her gloved hands.

“Hello! Anyone home?”

There was no answer, just as she had expected. The night before, Hayden had told her he would be in a meeting all morning. And when she had called his office only five minutes earlier, his secretary had confirmed the fact.

With a quick glance around, she slipped the dangerously acquired copy of Hayden's key out of her pocket and into the lock for the front door. She held her breath until she heard the lock click and felt the door slide open with her pressure. She stepped inside and quickly punched in the alarm deactivate code before closing the door.

She looked around the house she had only been in two times before. It felt a little colder without Hayden, but there was still a sense of his presence there, and a nervous sensation ran through her stomach.

This was a bad idea.

A really bad idea.

But she had already committed the crime of entering. There was no point turning back now. Though her shoes were fairly clean, she knew better than to take chances. She slipped out of them and left them on the mat at the door as she padded in stocking feet toward the stairs. She was on the first step when she paused and looked back at the shoes.

A girl could never be too careful. She turned back and ran to grab them, choosing to stick them deep in the back of the coat closet instead.

This time she decided to walk through the living room and kitchen first. Everything was immaculate. And save for an old family picture on the ledge above the fireplace, there was no hint of Sheree anywhere. Sydney flipped through a stack of mail on the kitchen counter. Bills, coupons, fliers, an invitation to some upcoming event. Nothing Sheree.

Upstairs she found two bedrooms, a bathroom, and a linen closet. The first bedroom was without embellishment and clearly served for guests. The second was obviously Hayden's. Everything about the room breathed Hayden—from the Raptors-red-and-gray drapes and bedding, to the oversized four-poster bed, probably custom made for his large frame, to the 32-inch plasma screen television on the wall. Even the large, worn black Bible sitting on his bedside table was exactly what she expected from her man. And then there was his scent. The mix of Gucci and Hayden that she had come to associate with him wrapped tighter around her the deeper she stepped into the room. The house was for everyone else, but this room was for Hayden, and in that moment she knew that by being in that room—by entering without being invited—she had violated him in a way that he would probably never forgive.

Her eyes fell on a picture stuck in the corner of the dresser mirror. It was from the weekend they'd had dinner at Sean and Maritza's place. All four of them were smiling at the camera; she was leaning against Hayden and he had his arms around her. She couldn't forget that moment, that feeling of being in his arms. She had never felt safer.

Sydney backed up. She couldn't do this.

She had reached the top of the stairs when her hip vibrated. Lissandra.

“How's it going?”

“Lissandra, I can't do this. This is too much—even for us.”

“What?” Lissandra hissed. “Girl, have you lost your mind?”

“Yes,” Sydney said. “And I'm in the process of getting it back. This can't be the only way to find Sheree, Lissa. This . . . this . . . it's just wrong.”

“Is it?”

“Yes,” Sydney continued. “It's a downright violation.”

“You mean like the way Sheree violated Dean? Violated our whole family? Took from us one of the most precious things we have? Our daddy's legacy.”

“Sheree did that, not Hayden.”

“Yes,” Lissandra said. “But if he knows what she did, and he knows where she is and isn't telling us—he's just as guilty. A man who claimed to love you wouldn't keep letting your family suffer if he could stop it. A good man wouldn't do that.”

Sydney bit her lip. On some level she agreed. But she still wasn't absolutely sure.

“Look, Sydney. We're not robbing him, we're just looking for some information,” Lissandra said. “See what you can find in the next ten minutes. If you don't see anything, we'll go.”

“Fine.”

Sydney ended the call and took a deep breath before heading back into the room. This time she didn't waste time looking around. She went straight for the small desk in the corner and skimmed through the papers there. Most of them were documents for the Argonauts, for billing, for X-ray clinics—nothing useful to Sydney. She opened the first drawer and found some old receipts. The second drawer produced some blank paper and stationery. Sydney almost felt relieved that there was nothing there to lead them to Sheree.

Third and final drawer. More bills and bank statements. Nothing interesting, restaurant charges, supermarket purchases. Movers.

Movers?

Sydney paused and looked at that one more carefully. It was the third charge on a VISA card issued in Hayden's name. Sydney checked the date. January fourteen. Two days before Dean found out Sheree was missing!

Sydney's chest began to tighten as she scanned the rest of the statement. A hotel stay at a Best Western. A rental vehicle charge for a week and a few other out-of-town charges. Sydney's heart hammered in her chest. She didn't want to believe what she was seeing, but the evidence was right before her. The cardholder's name was Hayden Windsor, and since he had the bill, that meant it came to him. Did Hayden help Sheree in her scheme?

No, he wouldn't do that. Even Sydney knew that.

So why then would he pay for it? Maybe she had used the credit card without him knowing. But if he had the bill he must have figured out what she had done. He could have traced her through the movers. Why didn't he tell Sydney? Why had he acted like he didn't know anything about where Sheree was?

Sydney felt a pain within her chest. She knew what it was, but she didn‘t have time to deal with it. She had gotten what she came for. Pulling out her phone, she snapped a few photographs of the statement before turning to the other documents in the pile. She was almost at the end when she heard a sound.

She froze.

She had begun to think it was her imagination, when she heard a door close loudly followed by footsteps on the stairs. Then a voice.

Hayden's voice.

“Y
eah, I should be back in ten minutes, by the time the break is over,” Hayden said. “I just need to grab a few things.”

Panic seized Sydney. If Hayden caught her here, in his house, in his bedroom, there would be no explanation that would be good enough. With only seconds to spare, she slipped the papers back into the drawer before falling to the floor and crawling under the low bed.

Sydney prayed her thumping heart would not give away her position. As it was, she was barely breathing for fear that he might hear her.

“OK, Paul, I'll see you in a few.”

She watched his stocking feet move around the room. Then the surface above her shifted as he sat down on the bed. Sydney ceased breathing as she watched his feet to her right. There was nothing under the bed, and so no reason for him to look under it. But she couldn't find any comfort in even that logic.

The moments seemed to stretch into eternity for Sydney as she listened to Hayden shuffle through papers. A few moments later, he got up and Sydney let herself breathe again. The stress from the situation was making her so tense she felt she would pass out.

She heard more movement and then a beep.

“You have three messages. . . .”

The answering machine. Well, at least she no longer would have to worry about who the messages were from.

“Message one: Hey, it's Samantha. Heard you're finally back in Toronto from all those away games. Would love to catch up over dinner. Call me.”

Sydney's eyebrows shot up. Call her? What was that heifer doing tracking her man?

“Message deleted.”

Sydney pursed her lips. Smart move.

“Message two: This message is for Hayden Windsor. This is James Bright calling from TD Bank. Please give us a call as soon as possible. It's in regard to your VISA card.”

“Message saved.”

“Message three: Hayden . . . it's me.”

Sheree.

Sydney froze. And apparently so did Hayden, as the movement she had been hearing previously ceased.

“Look, I'm only going to be here for a few days more. I hope you're not having any visitors tonight.”

So she was planning to stop by that night. Well, maybe Sydney needed to make a surprise visit.

“No more new messages.”

She felt the bed sink again as Hayden sat down, but there was no movement after that. Sydney could almost feel the waves of his concern. He was thinking about Sheree. Then all of a sudden she felt her hip vibrate. Sydney bit her lip hard as she tried to discreetly reach for the phone. The buzzing of the phone had never sounded louder than it had in that moment. When she finally managed to access it, she realized the call was from Hayden. Guilt washed over her. With a touch of the screen she sent the call straight to voice mail.

“Hey, Syd, it's me. Look, remember the other night I said I needed to talk to you about something? Well, I still do. Call me when you get this.”

She closed her eyes and rested her forehead against the ground. So he was finally going to tell her. If she had just waited one more day . . .

Sydney was so lost in her guilt that she barely noticed when the bed shifted again. It was only when she heard the muted sound of his footsteps that she realized he was leaving. She listened until she heard what sounded like a door shut downstairs. Then she waited.... Until fifteen minutes had passed since she'd heard movement in the room. Until Lissandra had called her three times in a row. And until her intuition told her it was safe to get from under the bed. As she did, her foot hit something sharp and metal. She scooted around to see it was just a vent under the bed.

But when she looked closer, she realized that the vent was only loosely secured to the wall. Scooting closer, she used her fingers to untwist the screws until the whole thing came loose and the vent fell from the wall. Sydney pulled a tiny wooden box out of the space. When she opened it, she found it crammed full of items, from a well-worn piece of paper folded multiple times, a creased black-and-white photograph, and a locket with a cross pendant. But it was what was at the bottom that told Sydney she had found what she was looking for. She replaced the vent, crawled out from under the bed, and made her way downstairs.

“Girl, I thought you were done for when I passed back and saw his car at the gate,” Lissandra said with a shake of her head as she opened the car door for Sydney. “Did you find anything?”

“Yes,” she said, opening the box so Lissandra could see it. When she did, Lissandra's mouth fell open.

“You've got to be kidding me, that isn't . . .”

“Yes, it is,” Sydney said, strapping on her seat belt. “It's a key to a safe-deposit box. We got her.”

“So I guess the two of you really went through with it.” Sydney stepped out of the downstairs bathroom and froze when she rounded the corner and found JJ standing by the kitchen counter, the box with the key and the rest of Sheree's junk open in front of her.

“What are you doing here?” It was the middle of the day. Lissandra had already left to return the rental car and Sydney was about to leave to pick up a box of items she had left at what used to be Decadent. She hadn't expected anyone to be home.

“Don't change the subject, Syd,” JJ said, folding her arms. “I can't believe you would break into Hayden's house. Lissandra, yes. But you?”

Sydney pursed her lips. This was exactly the guilt trip she had wanted to avoid.

“How did you know about that?”

“I overheard the two of you last night.” JJ shook her head with disappointment. “How could you do that, Sydney? Apart from the obvious legal issues, how could you do that to a man who loves you like that?”

Sydney brushed past her sister as she made her way to the fridge. “He left me no choice.”

“You always have a choice.”

Sydney put the orange juice decanter down on the counter, hard. “Not always.” She met her sister's eyes. “He was lying to me about Sheree.”

“You can't know that. . . .”

“I do,” Sydney said matter of factly. “I know she called him. I heard the conversation.”

JJ's mouth fell open. “Wha . . . When? How?”

“Trust me, you'd rather not know.”

JJ narrowed her eyes. “This has something to do with Essie, doesn't it?”

Sydney poured herself a glass of juice but didn't answer.

“Have mercy, Sydney,” JJ said, staring at her sister. “What have you been doing?”

“Don't look at me like that, JJ. Everything I did, I did because I had to. I tried it your way. I asked Hayden to tell me the truth about Sheree. He promised me he would let me know if he was in contact with her. Since then he's spoken to her twice.”

“And?”

“And what?”

“And did you give him a chance to tell you?”

Sydney took a swig from her juice as the voice mail on her phone came to the forefront of her mind.

“He should have told me as soon as he knew,” she said stubbornly. “He knows how important this is.”

“Sydney, Sheree is his sister!”

“And I am his girlfriend and Dean is my brother, and Dub made a promise to me,” Sydney said. “Doesn't that count for something?”

“Sydney, think about it,” JJ said, placing her hands on the counter. “What if Dean had done this and Sheree was the victim. What would you have done?”

“I wouldn't have told Dub jack,” Sydney snapped.

“Exactly!”

“But I wouldn't have made the kind of promise he made to me, either,” Sydney said. “And while I would probably hate whatever he would do to find out what he wanted, I would understand it.”

“Sydney, you're not being reasonable. . . .”

“No, I'm being real,” Sydney said, moving to the sink to rinse her glass. “We're about to send ourselves into debt to pay for Dean's care, when that woman is out there running around with our money. You bet your behind I'm going to do everything I can to find her and to take care of our family.”

“Well, guess what,” JJ said. “Sheree is married to Dean, so she is our family, too.”

“Maybe
your
family,” Sydney said, drying her hands on a kitchen towel before leaving the kitchen. “Not mine.”

“Sydney, I know you're not that cold,” JJ's words trailed after her. “I know somewhere inside, you know this is wrong. This is not what you do to someone who loves you.”

“He doesn't love me!” Sydney's voice came out louder and harsher than she'd intended as she turned to face her sister. “If he loved me, he couldn't look in my face and lie to me. He couldn't watch my family fall to pieces, knowing how to help and not doing something. He couldn't betray me like this.”

“Don't do that, Syd,” JJ said, shaking her head. “We want to blame someone, but the truth is no one is innocent here. Not Sheree, not Hayden, but not us, either.”

“You don't understand, JJ.”

“Understand what?” she asked softly. “That you love him? Yeah, I understand. He couldn't have upset you that much, and you wouldn't be standing over there crying if you didn't have strong feelings for him.”

Crying?

Sydney looked over at her sister at the same time that her hand reached up to touch her own face. Wet. JJ nodded just as Sydney realized she had indeed been crying.

Sydney sighed and headed into the living room. “It will pass.”

“Are you sure?” JJ asked as she followed.

No, she wasn't. But she hoped she was right, because the alternative was unbearable.

Sydney picked up the phone. “I need to call Essie. Now that we know the moving company she used, maybe we can find out where she went.”

“Why don't you just talk to him?” JJ asked, putting her hand on the phone to pause Sydney's dialing.

“I'm done talking to him,” Sydney said, gently removing JJ's hand. “Whatever he has to say, it's too late.”