Tragic Desires by A.M. Hargrove Page B

don’t know wha t to say.
    “I guess I shouldn’t have said that.”
    Her voice pulls me out of my stupidity. “No, I’m flattered.” There are all sorts of things I’d like to say to her, but this isn’t the time for this conversation. Maybe later. “Shall we?” I ask as I extend my hand.
    We drive to the church and park in the most obscure spot we can find. Then I put on my backpack, loaded with my necessary gear. I also hand her a set of night-vision goggles, help her into them, and give her a quick course on how they work. After I put mine on, we set off on foot, through the neighborhood. “Remember, once inside, no talking. Only write on the pad I gave you. The house may be bugged. Look for what’s not obvious … and grab whatever you think may help us. It can be even the smallest thing. If you think it’s important, take it. Anything that will give us clues to what your mom may have been involved in. And if you have any letters she wrote you, I want you to grab those too.”
    “Got it.”
    The yard is overgrown and the back door is boarded shut. We’ll have to get inside another way, a window perhaps. Careful not to make any noise, I check all the windows in the back. I eventually locate one that isn’t locked. The window is broken so it’s easy to open. After I push her through, I go in behind.
    The place is a mess. Drawers emptied, pictures torn off the wall, cushions slashed, closets emptied. It’s been destroyed.
    I motion to her to come toward me. Then I write to her, “Grab everything.” She nods in understanding.
    Gemini walks off to another room so I tag along. She enters what I presume to be her bedroom and goes to the closet where she pulls out a shoebox. I empty the contents into my backpack.
    The answers are in this house. I know they are. My gut shouts at me. Think, Drex. Where would you hide something this important?
    I quickly scan the floor. It’s carpeted. I pull a utility knife from my backpack and slice into the carpeting. Gemini looks at me and I shake my head. What I need to know is what’s beneath this carpet. When I lift it up, I find old linoleum. So I move to the next room. I find the same thing in all the rooms.
    Grabbing my notepad, I write, “ Attic?”
    She leads me to a door with a narrow set of stairs. I head up and find myself in the attic. There’s no way her mother would leave anything important out in the open. If she were indeed in the Witness Protection Program, she would’ve hidden this type of information safely away. I head to the rafters to check if there are any enclosed spaces up here. Nothing.
    Once I’m back downstairs, I check the closets, looking for false walls, but I come up with nothing again. Frustration mounts. There’s a fireplace in the living room. I write another note. “Ever use this?”
    Gemini nods yes. That blows that possibility.
    “B asement?” I write.
    I follow her down some steps. The room’s been redone , which mean here’s my best chance. The first place I check is the walls. All the pictures have been pulled off so I don’t have to bother with that. The more I think about it, the more I realize that it will be somewhere so obscure that I may have to settle for the fact that we won’t find it.
    I write Gemini another note. “ Any walls patched?”
    She smiles and motions for me to follow her. We get to the laundry room and she points to a wall covered with shelves.
    I help her remove the shelves. Behind them is a two-by-two-foot square in the sheetrock that doesn’t quite match the rest of the wall. But it extends to the floor where the molding doesn’t match, either. I dig in my pack and find my multi-purpose tool. I pry the wood away from the wall and behind it is a space devoid of sheetrock. Instead I find a metal box wedged inside. I pull it out and motion to Gemini to head for the stairs. We need to get out of here.
    W e head in the direction of the church, but my instincts proved correct. I hear cars on the