Read Buried Truth Page 25


  Chapter 25: Unmasked

           

  The mad man in front of me releases Ryleigh, and she hurriedly moves away from him, back to the window. He then puts the knife back in his pocket. “Ok, I’m going to remove part of the veil from your eyes. In the process, I will let Ryleigh go. I won’t go after your sister, and I might not kill you if you cooperate. But you will tell me where the fortune is hidden, then you and I will go get it together, just to make sure you’re not lying.”

  Ryleigh cowers up against the window while the rain hits the partly broken window behind her. The heaviest parts of the storm have slowly moved away, but a dense onslaught of rain and wind remain. Ryleigh nods her head in my direction, prompting me to turn to the man, and say, “Ok, if those are the conditions, I’ll tell you where the money was hidden.”

  He points at me saying, “See, I knew you were a smarter man than your father.”

  He takes his hands and pulls the bottom of the mask upwards until it comes completely off his face. He turns and throws the mask back towards the door. When he turns back towards me and the light hits his face, I’m truly amazed at who was behind the curtain. The face staring back at me is none other than Officer Boyd’s.

  He reacts to my gasp by saying, “You know…part of me really did hate having to do the things to your parents that I did. Your mom really was the realtor that set me up in my house in Everton. And by all accounts, they were good people. Well, except for when they wouldn’t tell me where the fortune was hidden.”

  I stare at him in utter disbelief. I rode in a car with the guy who killed my parents, and I had him in my home, and didn’t even know it. Oh my gosh, how didn’t I know? He was right there beside me, and I didn’t know he was the killer. What else have I missed?

  He grins at me then at Ryleigh. “I know right. I have always been right there beside you even after you left the house in your loony state. I can’t take too much credit though, the art of manipulation and acting is a family gift, especially when it comes to using your family. What can I say? It’s in my genes.”

  I look him in the eyes and ask, “What do you mean, especially when it comes to my family?”

  He shakes his head in amusement. “Oh, my bad you only know me as her ex-boyfriend or Officer Boyd. But neither of those are the names I go by within my family. To my mother my name is James Gate the third, but since you and I are so close, you can call me Jim. I’m the Great-Great-Grandson of James Gate the first the man that owned this mansion and plantation. And in a way owned your Great-Great-Grandfather at one time.”

  At least that explains why he wants the money so bad. “How did they ever let a crazy lunatic like you become a police officer?”

  “That was the easy part. My family hasn’t lived here since that night years ago. Shortly after they left Everton, they changed the name to Boyd and the rest is history. I always wanted to be a cop, and it was the perfect cover. If someone was to search deep enough into my history, they could find the truth. But, who would suspect me. And pretty soon it won’t matter, I’m going to be out of here with my family’s money, and I already have a new identity set up in a place far from Everton, Georgia.”

  This guy is nuts. I may be out of my depth here. How do I convince him I know where James hid the fortune? He knows more of the history than I do! I had better think of something or there won’t be much thinking going on ever again.

  He crouches down in front of me and asks, “Do you have any questions? Here’s your chance to ask. I know you must have some with your memory loss thing.”

  “How do you know I lost my memory?”

  “I pushed you down the stairs and when you got up you were all over the place. Ryleigh here came running out of nowhere and got you outside. I chased you, but it was obvious by your demeanor and speech that you were in la-la-land.”

  “But, how do you know I didn’t remember everything the next morning or the next day?”

  He smirks. “Well, you told me in your living room. But the rest of the time, well, that’s another one of my family tricks. I’ll tell you what… I’ll let you in on that secret right before I kill you. You know… if I kill you.”

  Ok, that was a dead end conversation. I have to find something I can use. “Why haven’t you killed me? You certainly had ample opportunities to kill me or at least take me.”

  He moves closer to Ryleigh as he responds to me with his back turned. “You have me all wrong. I want my family fortune. The killing is just a means to an end. Sure, I relish it, but I’ll relish the money far more than the means of getting it. I was hoping your dad told you where James hid it because I know he recently figured it out. If I could have found his findings, when I broke into his law office, maybe none of this would have happened. But I didn’t and he wouldn’t tell me. I did find the file in the house, but it only had historical information that I already know. So, I was left with you as my loose end. As long as you couldn’t remember anything, I was safe from being anywhere near the radar of being caught. But if you couldn’t remember, you also couldn’t give me the information your dad passed on. So, I let it mostly run its course. So for your sake, I hope you really do remember what your dad told you or figured it out on your own. Either way, I think it’s time you told me where my money is hiding.”

  The entire building goes silent. The rain has lightened up and the violent storm has moved out of earshot. Ryleigh is quietly clinging to the window while James stands quietly staring at me. The decisive moment is here. How do I navigate this one?

  “First, can you cut these ropes off? They are killing me and we wouldn’t want that. Plus, it would allow us to discuss the fortune as men. I won’t bite. I promise.”

  He thinks it over then pulls out his knife. He walks around behind me and cuts the rope. “I’m sure I will regret this, but before you think about trying anything, just know I’m good with a knife. And I got a track record to prove it.”

  With the pressure gone, my wrists feel instantly better. I have bloody rope indentions in my skin from where it had dug in every time my wrist moved. I take a deep breath. This is without a doubt going to have to be my best story I have ever given while in a drunken stupor, at least I’ve given quite a few, so I might be able to pull it off. But, I doubt I’ll be able to string this one together well enough to escape unharmed.

  “Ok. My dad did tell me he found the location of the hidden fortune. He also did tell me where it was hidden. When my memory went all wacky, those conversations were lost. Today, I began getting my memory back little by little. I still don’t have it all, but I do remember the location my dad told me about before you killed him. He said it was hidden here at the mansion—in a secret safe in the master bedroom floor. Only James knew about the safe because he put it in specifically to hold the money, and only he knew he was taking the money in the first place.”

  I’m betting everything on the fact the story is half-true. Well, if my dad got the facts straight on his notepad written in shorthand, there should really be a safe in the bedroom floor. It’s doubtful the money is in it, but there should be a safe. Of course, Jim could easily know about it since he is in the family, and I’m not at all positive the family didn’t know.

  He looks at Ryleigh then back at me while twirling the knife in his hands. “Ok, sounds good. I guess we will see how honest, you are being. Ryleigh, dear, you may leave. Give her the keys. She can take her car if she can make it out of here after all the rain.”

  “They are still in the ignition.”

  Ryleigh slowly walks past Jim, carefully avoiding the knife. She glances at me briefly before focusing intently on the exit. Once she leaves the room, Jim walks right up in front of my face. We stare into each other’s eyes, neither of us blinking.

  He looks away first when he takes a step back and shakes his head. “You are such a bad liar.”

  He pulls out some kind of an old book from the back of his waistband. He slides the small book over in my direction. “There shoul
d be a bookmark keeping the page. Read it for yourself, we have a little time. Maybe it will jog your memory a little better.”

  The book is the diary of James’ wife, Sarah. The page is her account of the events leading up to that night. She had found out about the money just after James started taking it. She just didn’t want anyone else to know, and she was thinking of leaving James. But James was too much of a loose cannon for her to simply take the money and run, and Isabelle was weak and chose Jonathan over her own blood, so Sarah had to wait for the perfect moment.

  I turn the page to the events of the night everything spun out of control. The writing is much more frantic and uncalculated, but it describes in full detail the missing pieces of that night.

  Isabelle rushes to Jonathan’s side, shouting at her brother. She slaps James in the face while spitting on him in disgust. She turns her back to walk out the door as James’ screams out with rage. He shoves her with all his strength into the fountain. Isabelle cracks her head so hard against the marble that a tiny bit of the fountain chips away.

  Jonathan rushes to his wife’s lifeless body and then stumbles out the door without even looking back. James and Sarah get into a heated altercation about the money. James demands Sarah to tell her the truth about her affair, but she smugly shrugs his demands away.

  James begins to sob as the realization that his family is falling apart sets hold of him. Meanwhile, Sarah creeps up from behind him and strangles him to death in the foyer. Having the perfect opportunity to cover it up, she manages with a lot of effort to string him up above the swing in the tree, making it look like suicide. But when she goes to get the money, it isn’t in the safe. James has hidden it somewhere else.

  Crap. How didn’t my dad know that? Now what do I do? Wait… “Why did you let Ryleigh go if you knew the money wasn’t in the safe?”

  “Oh, that was just for fun and so is this.”

  He twirls the knife in his fingers as I back away from him, leaving the diary lying on the floor. Every joint in my body hurts as I prepare for combat. This isn’t exactly fair. I’m already half beaten to death, and he’s in almost perfect shape. Plus, he gets a knife. Even the lighting in the room seems dimmer now that I have to concentrate on his precise movements.

  He lunges at me with the knife. I quickly spin to my right and slightly backwards, causing him to miss by inches. The few inches that he misses by being enough to make him slightly unbalanced out on his front foot allows me to quickly siege the opportunity and use my body as a projectile to launch into him.

  I’m not able to generate a ton of force because of the close proximity, but it is enough to be successful. I hit his arm, causing the knife to go flying towards the door. Our bodies become mangled together, limb under limb, as we flail about like dying fish on the floor. The combination of the impact into his body and then the unforgiving floor knock my breath out.

  He is briefly stunned, but gathers his strength before I catch my breath. A powerful fist slams across my left arm. I push out my right arm in his direction, trying to block his arm, eyes or whatever else it can manage to cover up. Another blow hits me this time in my left side, the pain shoots up from my side to my brain, and I scream in agony.

  Only one tactical maneuver remains that could give me an advantage in the fight. I have to get my left leg out from underneath him and spin over him. I can then try to take my body straight into his chest. It’s the only way to overcome his leverage and get myself into a fighting position.

  I successfully remove my leg and spin over to him, which does weaken his leverage. However, he blocks my attempt to lodge myself into his chest by grabbing hold of my arm and forcing me to the left. At this point, neither of us can really get any blows in edge wise. We are both laying on our sides facing each other. I’m closest to the door while he is closer to the window. He has my left arm pinned against the floor and I’m struggling to keep his right arm pinned against his thigh.

  During the struggle, the banging of feet heading towards the room flutter in the distance. I swing my head back so that I can briefly see Ryleigh racing into the room at a frantic pace. “Ryleigh get the knife. I can’t hold him much longer.”

  My focus is solely on keeping Jim pinned when Ryleigh finally grabs the knife in front of us. She is staring down at us, frozen in time like ice. My mind races while my eyes lock on Jim. We both turn and stare at Ryleigh. I scream, “Do something!”

  I loosen my grip on Jim so that I can reach for the knife with my right hand. Jim uses my loosened grip to carve out some space between us. My hand stretches ever so close to Ryleigh as she reaches down with the knife. I’m going to get it and stab straight down into whatever part of…

  Before I can even fully process my next move, Ryleigh’s hand has drifted away from mine and towards Jim’s outstretched hand. Ryleigh gently lays the knife in his hand as she mouths, “I’m sorry” in my direction.

  My only instinct upon seeing his hand with the knife is to kick away from him as fast and as hard as I can. Maybe he won’t be able to stab me right away. But he doesn’t try to stab me at all; instead, we both quickly scramble to our feet. Upon reaching his feet, he begins twirling the knife in his hand while looking at Ryleigh with a cunning grin, “Let's see, if I were Ryan, how was it that he showed his gratitude towards a person with our unique bond? Oh, wait, I remember. He would say something like thanks sis. But I’m not him and I didn’t really need little sister’s help with this one.”