Don't Say a Word - Barbara Freethy [138]
The manager took them over to the vault area where the boxes were located. She asked both Elena and Julia to sign in, then escorted them all into the room where Julia inserted the key into the lock. Her anxiety made her fumble, but eventually the lock turned.
The manager pulled out the box and set it on the table. "I'll leave you to it."
Julia looked to Elena for guidance. "Do you want to-" J
"Go ahead," Elena said. "You know more about this than I do."
Julia drew in a deep breath and looked into the open box. There was a white business-size envelope with their names, Yulia and Elena, scrawled across the top. She didn't stop to open it, setting it aside for the moment. A large manila envelope came next. It was filled with scraps of paper that were yellowed with age and scribbled upon with blue and black ink. It took Julia a moment to realize that the notations were musical scores. She wondered if they had been composed by her great-grandfather. She wanted to linger, but everyone was waiting.
"Keep going," Alex urged. "You can figure out the music later."
The final object in the box was a Russian icon, a framed picture of St. George about five by seven inches in size. Julia remembered it hanging over the doorway in her parents' bedroom. In fact, they'd had icons all over the house. For good luck, her mother had told her. Some luck the icons had brought them.
"That's it," she said. "A letter, musical scores, and a picture." She felt disappointed. "I don't know what I was expecting, but…" She glanced down at the musical scores again. "Wait. If these scores were written by my great-grandfather before the revolution, they could be worth a fortune."
"Really?" Elena asked. "Who was our greatgrandfather?"
"A famous composer, Ivan Slovinsky. He ran to Paris during the revolution. He lived in exile there for the rest of his life," Julia explained. "Our parents must have believed the scores would be worth enough to set them up in a new life." She looked down at the letter. "I guess we should read this."
"Save it for later," Brady suggested. "Let's get your check and get out of here."
Julia picked up the envelopes and the picture, and they left the room. The bank manager asked Brady to sign a form, then handed them a check closing the account.
"Why are we withdrawing the money?" Alex asked, as they made their way toward the front door. "This is a bank. Seems like a good place to keep it."
"I assume the girls will want to split it up," Brady replied. "If they tried to get the money on their own, they'd need a lot of forms and new identification. I thought I'd make it easier for them. It's the least I can do." He paused, turning his gaze on Julia. "I do want to take a look at that letter just in case there's anything in there to lead us to the people who killed your parents. May I suggest that we go to one of our safe houses, so that we can all feel comfortable and secure? It's not far from here."
Julia glanced at Alex, who shrugged in agreement. She turned to Elena. "Is that okay with you?"
"Whatever you think is best," Elena replied. "I'll leave it up to you."
"We'll follow you," Alex said, as they entered the parking lot.
"I think the girls should come with me," Brady said. "So I can protect them."
"I can do that, too." The air between Brady and Alex suddenly sizzled as the two men seemed immensely irritated with each other. "I'll take Elena and Julia. We'll follow you to the safe house," Alex repeated, "and we'll keep the letter and everything else with us."
Brady looked as if he wanted to argue, then forced a tight smile. "All right. We'll play it your way…for now."
Julia didn't like the tone of Brady's voice. Was there something else he hadn't told them? She'd thought it was over. They'd found the safe-deposit box. She had the contents in her bag. Everything that had belonged to her parents was now in her possession. She should 350 be feeling happy, not tense or worried, but she couldn't stop the uneasiness sweeping through her. The tiny hairs at the back