The Lies That Save Us (The Broken Heart Series) (7 page)

“I need you to look up a farming family in Sultan and tell me what you find out.”

“What do you
need
me to find out?  What am I looking for?”

“I don’t know,” she said, her heart pounding in her chest.  “Just anything that seems strange or out of place.  Can you do that for me?”

“Give me the name and I’m on it,” said Keith firmly.

“It’s Richards.  I don’t know a first name, but there can’t be too many there that farm or ranch.  His property sounds like it’s a pretty big spread.  Let me know,
okay?  But don’t call me, I’ll call you back in a couple of days.”

“What’s going on, Alexa?  You sound on edge.  Is everything alright?”

“Yes, yes, everything is fine.  Really.  Please, just find out about that family and let me know.  Don’t forget, I’ll call you back, don’t try to call me.”

“Okay, you got it.”

There was an audible click on the other end of the line and she knew Keith had hung up.  She bit her lip and wondered if she was doing the right thing.  Her dad had always told her to pay attention to her gut feeling.  He’d been very clear about not being afraid to check someone out if she felt it was necessary.  Well, she definitely felt it was necessary.

Chapter Eight

They dined in the amazing restaurant at the hotel and Alexa savored every bite.  She and Cayman decided they would spend the evening after dinner reviewing the photo album page by page until they found the answers they were looking for. 

Arriving back at their rooms, Alexa grabbed the album and a can of soda from the fridge. 

“You want anything to drink?”  she called to Cayman.

“No, I’m good.  Let’s get this thing started.”

They sat for what felt like hours, pouring over each page, looking at every detail of the pictures of Alexa and her father’s last outing together.  Though the pictures made her miss her dad, it was now more important to find whatever it was she needed to find, and that made it much easier to concentrate.  Cayman asked questions about names of landmarks and Alexa told him as much as she could make out from the photos.  There was nothing new in them, nothing they hadn’t seen before. 

It was almost eleven when they shut the book and leaned back on the couch.  They had found nothing.

“It’s in there, Cayman, I know it is.  One more time, come on.  We can go through it one more time.”

Cayman sat up, cracked his neck and stretched.  “Let’s do it.”

They turned the pages slowly, mentioning items in each picture they had already discovered, but hoping it might stir some memory in Alexa.  They came to the last page and  Alexa was about to close the book when she looked back at the pages lying neatly on top of each other.

“What’s this?” she muttered.

Cayman sat up and looked at the album.

“I see that.”  He said with interest.  “What is it?”

A tiny corner of what looked to be another photo was sticking out from between two pictures in a pocket toward the front of the album.  She quickly turned to the page and pulled on the corner.  Whatever it was, was stuck between the two photos and wouldn’t budge.  She pulled the group of three out of the pocket and gingerly tried to separate the middle one from the ‘picture sandwich’, being careful not to rip any of the three pictures involved. 

“Can I try?” Cayman took the pictures and began to breathe between the two.  “Sometimes warm moist air can loosen a photo without damaging the picture.” 

Sure enough, in a few minutes the two outer photos came loose revealing a smiling picture of Alexa.  It was taken in that same spot in the desert and Alexa gasped.

“I always wondered where that picture went.”  Her mind went back to the day the photo was taken and she could clearly hear her dad’s voice.

“Let me take one of you, Alexa.  Stand over there, a little to the left.  That’s right.  Now give me that pretty smile…oh come on…prettier than that…”

“Does it mean anything to you?”  Alexa was snapped out of her reverie by Cayman’s voice.

“I had just taken that picture of him, the one where he’s looking past me.  He motioned for  me to hand him the camera.  He said he wanted to take a picture of me.  I remember this.  I must have asked him a hundred times where this picture went.  He’d just shrug and say he didn’t know.”

“Who
se car is that,” asked Cayman.

“What car?” Alexa took the photo from Cayman and looked closer at it.  “I didn’t notice that car.  Daddy kept asking me to move more to the left.  He was such a perfectionist; I thought he was just trying to center me in the picture.  I have no idea who that is, or why he would want it in there.
”

Far in the background there was a man standing outside of a sedan talking to the driver, but facing the camera.  It was so far away Alexa couldn’t make out who the man was, and definitely couldn’t see the driver.  It made sense that this was the photo everyone was after, but why?  To Alexa it was just a guy leaning against a car, having a conversation.

Cayman pulled a magnifying glass out of his duffle.

“You always carry a magnifying glass with you?”
she giggled.  “That’s a bit weird, don’t you think?”

Cayman was pouring over the photo, scrutinizing the automobile.  “Oh, you laugh, but I’m prepared.”  He was joking, but Alexa could see the concentration on his face.

“The car is sitting with its rear end toward the camera.  I think if we could get this enlarged, we might be able to read the license plate and that may give us more information.”

“Wow.  Sounds like you’ve done this a few times.”  Alexa was studying his face.

“My mom and dad have tons of old photos we found up in the attic back home.  They had to look at each one of them and remember ‘who was who at the zoo’, as they were fond of saying.  We came up empty on some of them, but Mom and Dad were able to identify a lot of relatives using this very method.  It works.”  Cayman was still studying the photo and though he was trying to act nonchalant, he was
really
looking.

“Whatever are you looking for?  You wouldn’t know who was in the car or who was standing outside it. What do you think you’re going to find?  A puppy?”

Cayman hadn’t realized he was working so hard at it and quickly handed the picture back to Alexa.

“Oh, sorry,” he muttered.  “I guess it’s just habit.”

Alexa studied him for a minute, then tucked the photo in her backpack and carried it and the pack to her room.

“Where you going?  This was just getting fun.” Cayman called out.

“I’m tired.  I’m going to hit the hay and try to clear my head.  Good night.”

She shut the door, locking it as she did and grabbed her cell phone.  She quickly dialed Keith’s number and prayed he would answer. 

“Hi beautiful!” came the soothing voice on the other end of the phone.

“Wow, Keith.  Sometimes you sound just like my dad,” she said with a smile in her voice. 

“Well, then he must have had a very sexy voice,” came the reply.

Alexa laughed quietly so as not to arouse suspicion.  “What did you find out?  Anything yet?”

“Well you didn’t tell me it was
Bob
Richards.  I’ve known Bob for years.  Never really knew his kids, they were all grown and gone by the time we met, but he’s a good man.  He used to have horses and a few head of cattle, but doesn’t anymore.  His health isn’t good enough to keep that going.  I don’t know the boys, but they come from a good family.  Are you telling me Cayman is his son?”

“Yeah, he is,” said Alexa, feeling a little better about things.

“If that’s the case, I feel better about you traveling with him than I did when you left, and I was fine with it then.  He comes from good stock, I can tell you that.”

Alexa was silent, thinking.  People change when they move away from the watchful eye of mom and dad.  He could have fallen in with some bad people and his parents wouldn’t even know it.

“Are you still there?” asked Keith.

“Oh, yeah, sorry,” said Alexa softly.  “Thanks for checking on that for me, Keith.  Yes, those are his parents.  I’m glad to have a good report from you.  I’ll call you later, and tell you all about this when I get home.  How’s Tahleah doing with the diner?  Everything okay there?”

“Yes, she’s doing great.  Loving taking the helm for a while, but I think she’ll be glad to have you back here.  Take care, you hear?”

“Will do.  Talk to you soon.”

Alexa changed into her pajamas, which tonight was one of her father’s shirts she’d kept with her when she left Page.  His smell was long gone with all the washings it had been through, but still she loved wearing it. 

She walked into the bathroom to wash her face and brush her teeth.  She was just about done when there was a knock at the door between the two rooms.  She quickly spit out the paste and rinsed. She was wiping her mouth when she opened the door.

Cayman took one look and smiled that big gorgeous grin. 

“Wow.  You really shouldn’t wear that.  It…It--”

“It’s pajamas, and it’s my dad’s shirt.  Makes me feel close to him.”

“Of course it does.  Sorry, I was just checking on you before I hit the hay.”

“Did you want to check my teeth? I just brushed.” She was being completely sarcastic, but he grabbed her around the waist and pulled her into him.  She could feel his hand softly, gently exploring her back and waist and felt the ache inside her growing.

He kissed her, his mouth exploring every inch of hers as she sank into his arms.  He stopped abruptly and smiled down at her.

“Great job on those molars!” he said smiling.  With that he turned and shut the door.

She stood there, staring at the door and breathing heavily.  She swallowed hard, leaning her forehead against it.

“We gotta figure this out, and fast,” she whispered to herself.  “I don’t know how much more of this I can take.”

Chapter 9

The following day they ate breakfast at the hotel and decided to stop at a local Wal-Mart and get the photo enlarged.  It took about a half hour for the whole process, but they left the store with the enlargement in hand and started out on the final leg of their journey.  All they got from enlarging the photo was a better view of the license plate, not good, but better.   As for making out anything else, it wasn’t a good enough photo to see more detail.

Once in the car, Cayman wanted to send a picture of the license plate to his friend in the State Patrol to see if they could find out who it belonged to.  Using his phone he took a picture of just the plate and forwarded it on. 

“Don’t know if he’ll be able to help, but it’s worth a shot.”  Cayman tucked his cell phone into his jeans pocket.

They drove the remainder of the way to Page with the usual stops for gas and food.  They pulled into town at about four o’clock in the afternoon and Alexa gave him directions to the house she’d grown up in.

She hadn’t sold the home, hadn’t changed a thing about it since her father died.  She kept the cleaning lady coming every week to dust and keep the place looking lived in.  It was an expense for her, but one she just couldn’t eliminate.  It was still her home, and she wasn’t ready to part with it yet.

The house was a sprawling one level Spanish Style home with
four bedrooms and three baths.  It had a stunning kitchen conducive to cooking for large groups of people.  Open and spacious, it boasted a sub-zero fridge, granite counter tops and beautiful stained hickory cabinets.  A large semi-formal dining room bordered the kitchen area with a huge formal dining room off of it that housed a table to seat twelve.   The living room was huge as well, with a fireplace taking up one wall and a large overstuffed couch and several chairs to lounge in.  Across the hallway from the living room, passing the front door, was the library, which was also her dad’s office.  His desk now sat clean and free of the clutter of paperwork she was so accustomed to seeing when he was alive.  The dark mahogany wood matched the bookshelves surrounding the room with one large picture window looking out into the backyard and another looking out the front of the house. The desk was positioned in such a way that, if sitting at it, you would have a clear view of both the front and back yards and the entry.  From the entry one could turn left before entering the kitchen and go down the hallway where the bedrooms were found, each one with its own queen bedroom set and individual décor.  The home was beautiful.

As they entered Cayman let out a low whistle.

“What a spread,” he said, admiringly, “You grew up here?”

“Yes,” Alexa replied, “and I loved every minute of it.”

“Your dad must have done a lot of entertaining,” said Cayman, still admiring the house.

“Yeah, we did,” she said, “how did you know that?”

“Well, why would you have a table to seat twelve and such a huge kitchen for just the two of you?”

“Never thought of that, I guess.”

“Why didn’t you sell it when your dad died?”  he asked, “If that’s not too personal a question.”

“No, it’s not,” she said touching the back of the couch.  “I just couldn’t part with it.  It cost me a lot to keep it maintained, but I couldn’t let it go.  It was my connection to my dad.  I just couldn’t part with it yet.”

She walked him through the kitchen, office and living room before showing him the room he would be staying in.  She decided on the trip down she would stay in her dad’s room.

After getting Cayman settled in, she walked across the hall and opened her dad’s bedroom door.  It was exactly the way he’d left it.  His dresser still had his brush and comb on it.  She walked over and picked up the cologne sitting by his brush.  Opening the lid she sniffed it and smiled, remembering the scent of the father she loved and missed so much.  She could feel him around her with every item she touched.  After her dad’s death, she’s slept there every night before she moved to Startup.

They brought their things into the house and since there was no food, decided to go get something to eat. Page was a beautiful town with blue skies overhead and green trees dotting the streets.  It was clean and the air smelled fresh, just like Alexa remembered it.  It had only been a little over a year since her father died, but it seemed like she’d been away for much longer than that.

They got to the small diner and were seated by the window.  The town was just one of those that made you want to sit somewhere comfortable and watch the street all day.  People carrying bags from shopping, greeting friends they bumped into along the way.  Watching them laugh and hug, it was a warm feeling for Cayman.  It reminded him of the small town atmosphere of Sultan.  Everyone knew everyone there.

Alexa was enjoying the scene outside their window as well.  She watched the people and also gazed from store to store remembering going into and out of each one with friends.  She remembered shopping for prom dresses, new shoes, even make up.  She felt the tug at her heartstrings, knowing that while she was doing all those fun things, her dad was home, waiting for her, ready to review all her purchases and ooh and ahh over them just like her girlfriends.  She missed this city, she missed that fun growing up time, but most of all she missed her dad.

 
They ordered their food and Cayman grinned at his full plate.

“What?” asked Alexa as she took her first bite.

“Oh, I don’t know.  It’s just this place, I guess.  It reminds me of my grandma’s house in Washington.  It even smells like it.  Somewhere in this diner is a tub of apples.  I can smell them, just like my grandma’s pantry.”

Alexa smiled at him and they enjoyed the rest of the meal.  Once finished, Cayman
checked his phone, once he finished eating, to see if he’d heard back from his friend in Washington, but there was nothing yet.  It had been a long travel day and Alexa was exhausted, so rather than tour the town, they drove straight home.

“I’m going to go to bed,” she said, stifling a yawn as they came through the front door.  “I’m tired and I just want to spend some quiet time alone in my dad’s room.”

“Understood,” said Cayman with a smile.  “I’m going to stay up a while and see if there’s any good reading material in that library.  If you get lonely--sorry, never mind.  I’m just going to read.”

Alexa laughed as she stood and started down the hallway.  Entering
her dad’s room, she walked to the closet to pick out her ‘pajamas’ for the evening.  Picking up one of the shirt sleeves she held it against her cheek and then over her nose.  She breathed deeply.  She could still smell her dad in the shirts, but the smell was fading.  That realization made her sad, though, as she knew it was inevitable.  She pulled a shirt from the closet and laid it on the bed.  As she unbuttoned her shirt she walked back to his dresser.  Picking up his cologne again, she opened the lid for another whiff of memory.  She smiled as she gently placed the bottle back on the dresser.

She took off her shirt and dropped it to the floor as she continued walking around the room, examining items left there.  She unbuttoned her jeans picking up a carved Indian doll she’d admired so often as a child.  She absently pulled her pants off with one hand, never taking her eyes from the doll and let them drop to the floor.  She stepped out of the jeans as they hit the floor and she placed the doll back in its spot on the dresser and continued around the room. 

There was a knock at the door and forgetting she had completely disrobed she went to the door and opened it, much to the surprise and joy of Cayman, who stood wide eyed on the other side of the door.

“What’s--” She looked down and her eyes widened in embarrassment as she slammed the door shut in his face. 

“Hey!” he called through the door, “no need to be shy.  I’d be happy to strip down to my underwear if that would make you feel more comfortable.”

Alexa could feel the heat in her face and quickly putting on her father’s shirt she opened the door.

Cayman was still there, waiting.

“That is no better than before, you know.  No better at all.”

“Yeah, but it’s my dad’s room, so that kind of kills the mood right there.”

“Oooh, I don’t know…” began Cayman.

“Go to bed.” Alexa shut the door, her heart pumping.  “
What in the world was I thinking?”

She looked across the room at the open closet doors and saw several small boxes on the shelves. She’d never noticed these before.  Curious she walked to the closet and pulled one of them off the shelf, placing it on the bed.  She folded the blankets down and crawled into bed pulling them back over her.  She moved the box closer, carefully opening the lid.

There were many pictures of people she didn’t know, but most of them included shots of her dad.  Some showed him wearing fatigues, some suit and tie and one had him in hospital scrubs.  Scrubs?  What was that about?  She looked on the back but there was only a number.  She checked the back of the others and there were more numbers, but none really in sequence.  She came to the bottom of the box rather quickly, and putting the photos back into the box, folded the flaps closed and placed it back in its spot on the shelf.  She pulled another box down.

Crawling back under the covers she opened the second box.  There were more photos, but this time she found a small voice recorder.  She tried the play button, but apparently the batteries were dead.  Frustrated she went into the kitchen to see if there were any batteries in the fridge.  Her dad had always kept batteries there because he said it lengthened their shelf life.  She hoped he was right because she was itching to know what, if anything was on the recorder.   Just the thought of hearing her dad’s voice again made her hands shake as she grabbed the door handle.

She opened the fridge and was thrilled to find some batteries inside.  But there was something taped to the batteries, a note on a piece of folded torn paper. 

“Listen to me.”

It was her father’s handwriting.  She stared at the writing and tears filled her eyes.

“I wish I could, Dad.  I wish I could listen to you.”

Gradually a light went on in her head.  She looked at the batteries and thought of the recorder she’d left on the bed in the other room.

Listen to me.
  Was it a message?  A message from her dad?  Why would he put that there?  Did he want her to find the recorder?  Did he know she would?

“Are you okay?” Cayman called from the living room.

“Oh, umm, yeah, fine,” she mumbled, “just getting some…”

Not finishing her sentence she walked back to the bedroom, lost in thought.  She picked up the recorder and opened the battery compartment.  There were no batteries in it, so she quickly placed them inside the recorder.  Her hands were shaking as she turned the unit over and pressed the play button.

The voice came through distorted, slow and creepy.  The batteries were no good.

“Perfect.” She said her voice thick with disappointment.  She quickly removed them. 

She went back out to the kitchen and brought the whole package of batteries to the bedroom.  Surely
some
were still good.  She tried several of them and finally found a pair that worked. Her father’s voice filled the room.

She lay back in bed and just listened to him speak to her.  She didn’t even pay much attention to what he was
saying; it was just so amazing to hear his voice.  She smiled as she lay there, envisioning his face, his hair, his grin as she would hear him softly laugh into the microphone.

At light went on in her head as
she remembered the note on the batteries. 
Listen to me.
  She quickly went back to the beginning of the recording and started over.  She paid attention to each word but wondered after a while what she was listening to.  It sounded like ramblings, like maybe he was trying to figure out what he wanted to say, or who he was talking to.  She gasped and backed up the recording to replay the last few words. 
They can’t fly.
  She played the sentence over and over listening carefully to the whole sentence, but it wasn’t the whole sentence she was listening for.  It was the three little words
they can’t fly
and how they fit into the sentence or didn’t. 

“Yeah, I told him flying pigs would land on him before I would agree to that, but we both know ‘they can’t fly’.”

She quickly stopped the recording and searched the nightstand for a pad and pen.  She found one and scribbled the whole phrase and sentence onto the paper.  She returned to the recording and listened to more of the recording that made absolutely no sense.  But soon she heard another very familiar phrase.  ‘
A moon of cheese?  Oh, please’.

She listened to the whole sentence.

“He turned around and laughed out loud.  A moon of cheese?  Oh, please.”

The sentence itself and even the sentences before it made no sense, but she knew the phrases, she knew them well.

She listened a little longer to more nonsense and then another familiar phrase came up.