The Millionaires - Brad Meltzer [87]
“That something was wrong. I knew it the moment I got the report.” Reading the confusion on our faces, she explains, “Six months ago, it’s like any other morning. I’m pouring myself some Cheerios, then suddenly the phone rings. They tell me my dad died in a bicycle accident—that he was riding over the Rickenbacker Causeway when a car veered out of its lane…” She shifts in her seat as she relives the memory. Burying it back down, she adds, “Have you ever seen the Rickenbacker?”
We shake our heads simultaneously.
“It’s a bridge that’s as steep as a small mountain. When I was sixteen, it was a tough ride. My dad was sixty-two. He had trouble tackling the paved road along the beach. There’s no way he was biking the Rickenbacker.”
We’re all silent. Charlie’s the first to react. “Did the cops—?”
“The day after the accident, I drove to his house to pick out the suit he was going to be buried in. When I opened the door, the place looked like it was hit by a hurricane. Closets ripped apart… drawers overturned… but as far as I could tell, nothing was taken except his computer. The best part is, instead of sending the police, the break-in was investigated by—”
“The Secret Service,” I say.
Gillian turns with a sideways glance. “How’d you know that?”
“Who do you think’s chasing us?”
That’s all it takes. Like she did with Charlie, Gillian locks her gaze on me. I can’t tell if she’s looking for the truth, or just a connection. Either way, she’s found it. Her soft blue eyes stare straight through me.
Charlie lets out a loud, fake cough. “So what do you think they were looking for?” he asks.
“Who? The Service?” I ask.
“Of course, the Service.”
“I never found out,” Gillian explains, her voice still soft and lost. “When I called their Miami office, they had no record of an investigation. I told them I met the agents, but without their names, there was nothing they could do.”
“So that’s it? You just gave up?” Charlie asks. “Didn’t you think that was a weensy bit odd?”
“Charlie…!”
“No, he’s right,” Gillian says. “But you have to understand, when it came to my dad’s business, secrets were just part of the game. That’s just… that’s just how he was.”
Charlie watches her closely, but I give her a reassuring nod. When it comes to our own jackass dad, I’ve been able to forgive. Charlie never forgets. “It’s okay,” I say. “I know what it’s like.” As I reach out to touch her arm, Gillian’s bra strap falls from under her tank top and sinks to her shoulder. She lifts it back into place with perfect grace.
“Okay, hold on,” Charlie interrupts. “I’m still having trouble with the timeline: Your dad died six months ago, right? So was that right after he moved from New York?”
“New York?” Gillian asks, confused. “He never lived in New York.”
He glances at me and studies Gillian. “You sure about that? He’s never had an apartment in Manhattan?”
“Not that I know of,” she says, never one to insist. “He took a few business trips there every once in a while. I know he was scraping cash together for one of them this past summer—but otherwise, he’s lived in Florida his entire life.”
His entire life. The words ricochet through my brain like pinballs off a bumper. It doesn’t make sense. All this time, we thought we were looking for a New Yorker who made some cash and moved to Florida. Now we find out he’s a Floridian who could barely afford the few trips he’d taken to New York. Marty Duckworth, what the hell were you up to?
“Can someone please tell me what’s going on?” Gillian asks as her eyes shift nervously between us.
I nod to Charlie; he nods to me. Time to give her another piece of the puzzle. It takes Charlie ten minutes to tell her everything we know about her father’s run-down New York apartment.
“I don’t understand,” she says, once again sitting on her hands. “He owns a place in New York?”
“Actually, if I had to guess, I’d bet he was renting,” I clarify.
“How long did you say he was away last summer?” Charlie jumps in.
“I-I don’t know,” Gillian sputters. “Two and a half… maybe three weeks. I never really paid much… I barely even saw