NIP 27

“Ha. Cute. No. He keeps calling your mom a ‘cop fucker.’ So it seems Ed Hayes was not the only cop she had a thing for or possibly with.” Brad clicks his tongue as punctuation. “And he keeps talking about Dan. His stepfather knows something. He is in deep. I promise you.”

“Shit.” I say blankly. Again.

“Clara must have some old photos or some effects from your mother. We need to dig up your mother’s past. Our answers can only come from her.” Brad is so sure of himself. I am sure of nothing.

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Although we are convinced we are doing the right thing we decide to discreetly park the car three blocks from Aunt Clara’s house. I secretly wish I was wearing running shoes in case we have to book it out of there. At this point I only plan for the worst possible scenario.

We attempt to move unseen so we creep along the bushes curving up around Aunt Clara’s house. I present my house key. I briefly pause before handing it to Brad. Suddenly I am bit nervous about what we will find inside. I have not been here since I saw my wonderful Aunt bloody on her kitchen floor. What if the cops turned the place upside down? What if this house no longer feels like the safe haven I grew up in? What if Aunt Clara is to blame for all of this? What is my room has been ransacked? What if Ainslie’s or Lizi’s room is…LIZI.

“Brad.” I whisper as he turns the key in the backdoor. “I have to call Lizi.”

“Hold on. Let’s get inside.” He pushes the door open.

I hold my breath. I squeeze my eyes shut. I summon strength. Go inside. Go inside and find your truth…whatever it may be.

I seize Brad’s hand. He accepts and takes my hand. He cradles it. We stand still in the kitchen and assess the situation we have intentionally place ourselves in. The floor has an outline of Aunt Clara’s body. Chills race up my spine. Although, this seems to be the worst of the police activity left behind. Thank goodness. I can’t bare anymore destruction at this point. As I think this I know it is only wishful thinking.

“Okay. They left her house intact.” Brad sighs with relief. “This is good because we are one step ahead of them. Or whoever is playing this game.”

I stare blankly. This blank look has become synonymous with my face.

“Meaning…it is unlikely that Aunt Clara’s belongings have been touched and if there is anything to find connecting Clara and/or your mother to this then we will find it…first.” Brad’s eyebrows rise in satisfaction.

“Ugh. I feel like I am in a movie.” My stomach churns.

“Ahhh yeah you are little lady. Write this down and I pretty much guarantee you can get Bradley Cooper to play me.” Brad winks.

“Stop it!” I silence my giggles. “You are distracting me. I’m fidgety and nervous…I cannot laugh right now.”

“Okay.” Brad pushes my curls behind my ear with a half grin. “Where does Clara keep her personal effects? Does she have a file cabinet? An office?”

“Yes. She has an office. Let’s start there. I rarely ever went there so I have no idea where to start looking for secrets and lies.” I recall. “Oh and she also has a few stashed boxes in the back of her closet.”

On tiptoes I guide Brad to Aunt Clara’s office. It seems dead. Lifeless. It is true, I rarely spent time in here. This was Aunt Clara’s solitude. Her alone. Her thinking space. Perhaps her hiding place?

The walls are lined with book shelves making it feel uncomfortably small for more than one occupant. Brad and I accidently elbow each other with even the slightest budge. I nearly jump out of my skin. Every bump startles me. I am edgy.

“Was she a horder?” Brad asks as he scans the stacks of papers, books, photos, random items. “Pet rocks?”

“Yeah.” I don’t fight my smile. “I gave her all of these. It was our thing.”

“Oh. Maybe I should consider this as evidence before I get involved with you?” Brad teases. God, he looks handsome in every light but I can’t help but notice especially so in this eerie and shadowy setting.

“Stop it!” I giggle and press my body up against his. “Although detective I may have cracked your code? You want to date me.”

“When you stand this close to me I cannot deny the charges.” I feel his cheeks heat up. Brad is certainly turned on by me. However, the romance is lost in my laughter. “Okay…back up. He’s gone. You shunned him and he left.”

I laugh so hard I actually lose my balance. I catch my fall on Aunt Clara’s desk. I crash down hard causing her left lower drawer to pop open.

“Let’s start here.” Brad reaches down into the drawer with a target in mind. “I spy a lock.”

Brad’s dig reveals a shiny metal lock box. Lock being the operative word.

“I’ll find the key.” I immediately offer and begin searching through Aunt Clara’s middle desk drawer. My fingers fumble over pens, tacks, rubber bands, paper clips…everything but a key.

“Nah. I’ll smash it.” Brad says as his right arm rises above his head aiming at the box on the floor. He has a pet rock in his hand. It’s the green lizard one I gave Aunt Clara the Christmas of ’87. I want to yell ‘noooo.’ But quickly realize chipping one pet rock is for the greater good.

Brad successfully breaks the lock off of the metal lock box. We kneel down and suspiciously lift open the top of the box. It is jam packed with papers and photos. In an effort to be thorough we spread the papers on the floor.

We have stumbled upon Aunt Clara’s box of legal documents. My birth certificate is in front of me. The original one. The one naming me Amanda Hayes. There is also a birth certificate naming me Sari Clarke. Father…Evan Clarke. This fake is also certified. Brad and I exchange glances asking the same question – how did they pull of getting this certified? Is this fraud?

We sift through Ainslie’s, Lizi’s and Clara’s important paperwork. Social security cards, fingers prints, a few photos. Nothing pertaining to the issue at hand! Crap. Brad’s face falls.

“Wait!” He exclaims. “What is this?”

Brad holds up a battered envelope. Amanda Hayes is written on the outside of the envelope. It is sealed. I snatch the envelope out of Brad’s hand. With thought, I tear it open.

“Dear Amanda.” I evenly read aloud. “I love you so much my sweet baby girl. The only lesson I am able to teach you is this-Life is not always as it seems. I will live out my days missing you and wishing we had a much different ending. Please know in your heart I did not murder your mother and step-father. You will read articles and encounter people who will try to tell you otherwise. I am being punished for this crime and I chose this fate. I chose this fate to keep you safe and make this nightmare end. If you ever want to know me please come find me. I will always welcome you. This is your decision my sweet. I will wake every morning hoping to see you again and be given your understanding and love. When the time is right I will explain all of this to you my love. I love you with all my heart and soul. Your father, Ed.”

My lips rest. My eyes stay on my father’s cursive handwriting. Most father’s handwriting is so familiar to their children but not in my case. A tear threatens to escape down my cheek. I inhale…deeply, violently, mystified.