Page 85 of Bitter Lies

“Maybe. I’ve heard that before. In my dream, I heard several shots. Once the medical examiner’s report is available, I’ll need to analyze the information, find out if my grandfather was killed by one or more bullets.” She exhales. “The mind can distort facts, creating a false reality. Dreams are often just that. The mind takes our thoughts and turns them into something that feels very real.”

She pauses again. “Anyway, the reason I asked you to take a photo of the Botticelli is because of what my mother said to me in the dream.”

“Your mother?” I close the folder of invoices. No time to go through those now. I’ll bring it with me and look closer later.

“Yes. It’s not the first time I’ve dreamed about her. She visits me in my dreams now and then. But this one was different… weird. With everything my grandmother’s been saying, it has me thinking.”

A pst sound travels through the line. “I just want to see if I can figure it out. It probably means nothing. Just my brain mixing shit up and me wishing there was a logical explanation.”

“But your gut burns, and you can’t ignore it.” I shift in the chair again, making it squeak. “Which brings me to my first question. If I’m taking this photo for you, then I need a way inside. The door’s locked. Do you know where I can find the key?”

There is a tapping noise; it sounds like fingernails clicking on something hard. “You’ve searched Grandfather’s desk?”

“Yes, nothing.”

“It’s a long shot. He probably changed the code once I didn’t need access anymore.” A faint whirl hums through the line, like a window lowering. “Do you see the picture of the two children hanging on the wall, next to the tall wooden bookcase?”

I cross the office to where the bookcase is, and notice three photos on the wall. One is of Rico and Alma when they were very young—a wedding photo. Next is one of Isabel in a cap and gown. Younger. A teenager, maybe. I’m guessing her secondary school graduation. The third is older. A boy and a girl. Two kids. He’s around eleven and standing next to a girl who’s younger. The girl looks like the woman I’m talking to, so I assume she’s her mother.

“I think I found it. Is it beside your graduation photo?”

“Please don’t look at that too closely. I hate that photo. There’s a huge zit on my chin that couldn’t be concealed, no matter how much concealer Larkin slathered it with.”

Well, now I need a closer look. Grinning, I remove the photo from the wall.

“You can’t tell, not really.” But you can. It’s like a third head, and it makes me chuckle.

“Liar,” she grunts. “Anyway. Yes. Behind it, there’s a small safe.”

I put her photo back where it was and remove the one of her mother and uncle. “You look like your mother.”

“I know.” Her voice is barely above a whisper. “Before we hang up, don’t forget to remind me about the second favor I need from you. But let’s focus on the safe now.”

I make a mental note and set the photo on the bookshelf. “I’m guessing you have the code.”

“Let’s hope.” She rattles off a string of ten numbers without having to think hard about it.

The green light flashes, and the lock makes a clicking noise. “It worked. You know the code by heart. Why?”

“Well, for one, because my grandfather is one of those types who’s skeptical of anything electronic. Says they’re easier to crack.” She clears her throat. “When he recoded it, we went with a set of numbers that was easier for me to remember. They are ones I’ll never forget.”

I have a great memory and repeat the numerical sequences in my head and know. “The ages your parents were when they died, your age at that time, and the month and year. That’s something most people wouldn’t solve so quickly. Did you pick it?”

“Yes. And you’re right. Grandfather gave me a few suggestions about what to use when setting it up. He couldn’t even figure it out until I told him.” The sharp click of a car door opening, followed by a soft thud as it closes, cuts through the stillness.

“There’s a set of keys inside. I’m assuming they’re the ones I need.”

“They should be. Does the keychain have the Chicago skyline on it?”

I snatch up the keys and rest the keychain in my palm. “Yes.”

“Then those are the keys.” When another car door slams, the sound is quickly lost in the wind, and her voice becomes muffled. “We’re here. I’ll need to go soon. One more thing, please.”

“What is that?” With the keys in my pocket, I grab a few other items from the safe.

One is a sealed manila envelope with Isabel’s name scrawled across the front. This will go into my pile of things to look at later when I have time. Preferably when she’s with me, so she can read it first.

“There was a man at hospital. He made me uncomfortable. Got a little too close in the lift. Said I looked familiar.”