The black luxury car rolled smoothly down the road giving off a soothing atmosphere. The trees smelled rich with pine and the sky today was amazingly blue. It was like a scene from a painting. If the car hadn’t been going fast, I would have captured a photo. My hand hung outside the window as I enjoyed the cool weather on my hands.
“Are you glad to be headed home?”
I turned my attention from the window to stare at James. I’d called him Thursday to let him know I would be home for the weekend. He didn’t ask any questions on why I wanted to come home. He never did. He knew that there were times when I needed a break away from school. “I guess you could say that. The weather in Victorville has been a bit floppy. I needed a new change of scenery.”
“”Well I for one am glad to have you home.”
“Does my mother know about me coming home?”
“I sent her a message. She hasn’t returned my calls yet.”
Figures. I turned my attention back out the window. It would be amazing to be able to fly. Holding out my hand again, I allowed the wind to take hold of my hand as it soared. I did this until we finally reached home. Climbing out of the back of the car, I stood in front of the place I had called home. I stared up at the window on the second floor as I did every time I returned home.
“Is Ms. Hopkins going to be joining you?”
I shook my head. I’d left immediately after classes Friday so I wouldn’t have to face Yuri. Only Taylor knew where I was. “No, Yuri’s staying at school this weekend.”
James gave me a confused glance but didn’t comment. Walking into the house, James left me to my own devices as I made my way up the stairs. My hand rubbed up against the wall as I thought back to the many times I’d often run up and down the hall playing hide and go see or tag with my father. Reaching his office, I came to a stop. The moment I entered into this room, I would find out whether the truth and the perceptions of my father would either stay the same or change. I listened for James, but he was nowhere near. Grasping the knob, I turned it and pushed the door opened. The door made a whooshing sound as I paused. The room was just how my father left it. Stepping in, I closed the door silently behind me.
The left wall was filled with two brown oak bookcases while the right wall held his file cabinets, paintings, and a coat rack were one of his favorite jackets were hanging. I stepped towards it, grasping the sleeve. Taking a deep breath, I inhaled what scent was left of my father. A smile came to my lips. It still smelled of his favorite cologne. A bird chirped outside of the window reminding me of what I’d come here for.
I headed over to my father’s desk and stared at the open books and scattered documents across it. Sitting down in the chair, I began to search through the documents. Taylor had done her job. According to what she found, Yuri and Kerry were right about the out of town meetings. My father hadn’t been to work in months before he left home. In fact, she found his letter of leave in his employment file. My father had been lying to my mother and me both.
Taylor couldn’t find out the name of the meetings he attended. But she did trace his credit cards to different hotels. All of them were always near the water or the expressway and in every hotel he went to, he shared a double bed room with someone. However, the name of that person was still a mystery. I was certain it was the person who killed him.
There was a stack of papers that seemed to be stuck to something on his desk. Grabbing the end, I gave the paper a tug. It wouldn’t budge. I gave it a few more tugs before ripping them. The force of the tug, made my elbow collide with my father’s pen case as it went tumbling to the floor. The case broke in half creating a loud crash as I froze. Goodness, I hoped James didn’t hear that. Bending over, I gathered up the fallen pens when I noticed the small gold key. Picking up the key, I stared at it. It was unusual. It was the size of my pinky, but it looked to be really old. There were also curved markings on the front and back of it. It didn’t make any sense. Why would my father hide a key inside his pen case?
Glancing down, I noticed there was a crack in the floor where the pens had fallen. Getting out of the chair, I squatted down to the floor. This wood was movable. Tucking the key into my pocket, I reached forward and began to pry the wood out. It released revealing a slot filled with papers and a tattered old book. Reaching in, I removed the book out of the hole and felt around to see if there was anything else. There wasn’t. I quickly placed the wood back and gathered the pens up to place them back on the desk. Sitting down in the chair, I focused on the papers. One was of a map, the second one was a letter written to my father from someone named G.L. Ross, and the third page was a burnt page filled with a list of names.
I tucked them into my pocket along with the key. Grabbing the book, I was just about to read it when I heard someone outside the door. Freezing, I stared at the knob as it slowly began to turn. I quickly pushed the book into the waist of my pants and pulled my shirt over just in time as the door opened. Staring in shock, I stood up from the seat. “Mom.”
My mother took one look at me in my father office and stepped into the room slamming the door behind her. “What are you doing in here?”