Page 119 of Against The Tide

“Dad always said that the safe in his office was far too predictable to keep what was important secure.”

“I can see where he was coming from.” I move closer but keep enough away that I can’t see what’s inside.

“Here, take these,” she instructs me, holding out a couple of mahogany cigar boxes. When I take them, she pulls another bigger box out. It’s rounded with pastel blue panels decorated with intricately carved shells and mermaids all around it, the scaled mother-of-pearl top clasped with a small lock.

“Bingo!” She blows out a breath when she inserts the key. “My grandmother bought me this for my tenth birthday to keep my treasure.”

Heading to the small writing desk, she sits at the chair and opens the trinket box. A small, carved mermaid dives into the ruffled blue silk in circles, over and down.

The fond nostalgia that lights her face is entirely enthralling as she listens to the music. Avery must realize I’m watching her because she looks up at me and says, “My dad used to wind it four times after he put me to bed, and I would always fall asleep before it was finished.”

“What is it?”

“La Mer by Debussy, or rather a section of it. She had the movement especially made for this box. It’s why it sounds a little choppy in the middle—it was hammered out by hand. One of a kind.”

“It sounds so…”

“Peaceful?” Avery asks as I put the boxes she handed me down to one side of the desk. “My grandmother was old-fashioned; she believed in giving gifts that meant something. She used to say that the things we treasure are the ones we have to search for. Always dig deep, she used to tell me, and I would ask, for what?”

Brushing a strand of chestnut hair from her face, I ask, “What did she reply?”

“Everything.” With a shrug, she pulls up a trim of silk to reveal a row of stud earrings that grow in size. Pointing at the minuscule sapphires, she tells me, “Those were for my tenth birthday. The emeralds were for my fifteenth, and the pearls were for my sixteenth. I only got my first diamonds when I turned eighteen.”

The diamond drops are bigger than the rest, and as she fingers the gems, she adds, “She passed away before my twenty-first birthday. It’s why this cushion is empty.”

Closing the top of the box with a sigh, Avery turns the key until the lock clicks shut and then presses it all the way to the rounded top before twisting it again so that the sides pop open.

“This was my favorite part about this box,” she chortles, pulling out the jewelry pouches that sit inside the drawers until she finds the one thing that clearly doesn’t belong there.

The levity on her features draws, leaving a serious stare. “The reason it went in the safe up here was because I would play with it all the time, and Mom used to worry that I would break it. Until I married, this was the only home I’d ever known, and by then she was gone, and the reminders as small as they might be, they felt like constantly open wounds back then.”

“And now?”

With another shrug, she pulls the USB stick from the tray and holds it up between us. “My perspective’s changed. As much as she was in pain, she got to go peacefully. In the end, the drugs helped her let go. It wasn’t like that for him, was it?”

My heart jumps into my throat, its pulse choking all my thoughts and my words. “Avery…”

“Come on, Doc. I have a PhD in Marine Conservation.” After a deep breath, she whispers, “You can’t protect me from the truth. It might hurt like a bitch, but it’s nothing compared to—” She stops abruptly as the tinkling of the piano keys behind me pauses. “I can handle it.”

“Okay.”

“You said I don’t know what crossed your mind, but…” A haunted look shadows the sunshine I love, the light that Avery radiates. “I’m at the point where…”

“You want justice.”

A tight scoff pushes out of her. “No.”

“No…”

“I want to see someone bleed. Maybe it’s wrong, but I don’t care.” Spinning the USB drive in her hand, she says, “I left my laptop in the car.”

While she puts the music jewelry box back in the safe, I head back to the rental car and grab it. I’m dashing back up the long steps to the house when movement in my periphery halts my momentum. The familiar Suburban rolls slowly away from the open gate while one of the asshole agents stares at me out from behind his ridiculous sunglasses. It’s not even sunny.

Taking the last couple of steps up to the stoop, I don’t look away as I wait for them to disappear from sight.

“What are you looking at?” Iris comes to stand beside me, looking between me and the gate. “You’re being weird.”

“I am not!” I wrap my arm around her waist and hoist her up, carrying her under my arm to her hysterical giggles. I close the front door and make sure it’s shut properly.