Echo (Bleeding Hearts #1)(59)

“I don’t know what to do,” I blurted, my eyes burning with unshed tears. “I can’t handle this anymore, Nicole. There are things I want to tell you…”

Her eyes widened, and she coughed as she took a drink of water.

“But I can’t,” I went on. “Or at least, I’m not supposed to.”

She weighed my words carefully before reaching her hand towards me.

“Brighton, there are things I want to tell you too…”

Ryland’s home phone rang out, scaring the hell out of both of us. I’d never even heard it ring before. He usually handled everything on his cell phone.

“He must have diverted his calls here by accident,” Nicole said nervously.

I let it ring out, six times in total before the machine picked up. A shrill voice came on the other line, echoing through the apartment.

“I’m a little short this month,” Norma-Jean blared through the speaker. “I’ve got my son home now, so I need some of next month’s payment in advance.”

She sniffed into the phone, her voice growing more agitated and desperate by the moment.

“I need it now. It’s real important that I get it now,” she persisted. “Or I might have to ask Brighton, and you wouldn’t want that would you?”

There were muffled noises and a click before the dial tone sounded.

I stood up and ran to the machine, and Nicole gave me a worried glance. I pressed the button, trying to get a playback, but the machine kept asking me for a security code.

“She said my name,” I stated, as though I needed confirmation from Nicole. “That was my mother, and she called here for Ryland. Because she said my name.”

My words weren’t coming out how I wanted or needed them to, but Nicole understood. She walked over and pulled me into her arms. She let me hug her back, using her strength to support me as I tried to understand what this meant.

“Why is he giving my mother money?” I mumbled. “I don’t understand.”

I paced back and forth across the kitchen while Nicole watched me wearily. She wasn’t asking me any questions, and I didn’t know why. I needed her to ask me questions. I needed her to help me make sense of this mess.

But then it dawned on me. The one place I knew for sure had the information I wanted. And it was sitting in a house on Belvedere Island.

I rushed to the box in the kitchen where Ryland kept his spare keys, checking each label before I found the ones I needed.

“What are you doing?” Nicole asked.

“I’m going to Belvedere Island,” I replied. “I’m going to get the answers I need.”



***



I figured I had another hour before Ryland questioned my whereabouts. It took me thirty minutes just to get to the house.

The keys on the key ring opened the front door without any resistance. But when I raced up to the third floor and wiggled them in the first door I came to, nothing happened. I tried to ignore the cold chill that moved up my spine as the lights flickered along the corridor, highlighting the eery atmosphere on this level of the home.

I thought about trying to break the knob or pick the lock, but it wasn’t one of my skill sets. So with a resigned sigh I walked back to the second level, clenching my fingers together as I glanced around Ryland’s room. I went through the nightstand and the dresser, turning up nothing useful. But then I remembered his home office.

I walked down to the office nestled into the back of the first floor. The door swung open on the first try. I stared at the oak monstrosity before me, noting how neat and orderly everything appeared. Just like his office at work.

It was one of the things I loved about the man. The painful realization I might not be able to handle his secrets socked me in the gut, stealing some of my resolve. For a moment, I told myself I didn’t have to do this. That I could walk back out of this house and pretend everything was okay. That’s what Norma-Jean always did. But look at how it worked out for her.

I liked to think I was stronger than her. But there was only one surefire way to find out.

I dug through drawers and cabinets, boxes and envelopes. I didn’t care about the mess anymore, and I didn’t bother putting anything back. The only thing I cared about was the key.

My fingers slipped over cool metal, and I held my breath as I pulled it from the back of the drawer, obscured beneath a mountain of paperwork.

When I held it up into the light, my chest constricted at the sight of the skeleton key. This was it. It had to be.

After barreling back up to the third floor, I forced it into the first lock impatiently. I closed my eyes and turned, my palm sweating against the knob as the weight of the lock released.

I pushed against the wood and held my breath, stepping into another bedroom. A master bedroom, even larger than Rylands. It held two walk-in closets and a bathroom off to the side. I glanced around in confusion as I wondered whose it could be.

The bed had been made, and a woman’s nightgown hung from one of the bedposts. The room was clean and orderly, except for the thick layer of dust that covered every surface. An abandoned teacup and saucer sat on the nightstand, along with a book splayed open to the last page. At one point, someone else had lived in this room. Someone other than Ryland.

I backed out the door, deciding there were no answers in here. There was something in that last room, though. The one I’d seen Ryland in. But along the way I paused at another room, too tempting to pass.