The familiar ring tone sounding on my cell phone startled me. I’d left the law office awhile ago. I expected Dylan would have called me way before this. Hours had gone by.
“Mackenzie, I need to talk to you,” his breath was heavy, his speech rapid, “I want you to come over to my parent’s house. It’s not too far; I’ll give you directions but hurry up.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Go the same way you would to get to my house but keep going to the center of town. When you get to Germantown Avenue… are you following this?”
“Yes.”
“You should probably drive, it’ll be faster. When you get to Germantown Avenue make a left. You’re going to pass the hospital on your right. Keep going and keep your eyes peeled for Sunset. It’s a few streets down. Make a right. It’s the first house on the left. Got it?”
“I’m leaving now.”
The house was modern, set back from the road. White with gray shutters. Very tasteful. Dylan’s car was the only one in sight. The front door was open. I walked into the foyer and called his name.
“Up here,” he yelled.
I took the steps two at a time. He was in a room at the end of the hall seated behind an enormous dark wood desk. One drawer was open, the contents scattered across the top. His head was down, his face flushed.
“What is it?” I walked over to his side.
He looked up at me. ”Sit down.” He pointed to a heavy wooden chair in the corner that had wheels on it. I rolled it over and sat down by his side. “After you left my father was so mad. The only other person who’s gotten him so upset is my brother.” He swallowed. “He left the office and I started going through his paperwork. He turned over your file to me but he kept all of his notes. I found them in the back of his drawer. Mackenzie, Nick did use some of that money.”
“What?”
“He used it to hire a private investigator. Someone here in Philadelphia. My father actually handled the money but Nick authorized it.”
“When?”
“This past August.” August? And he died in September?
“I finally found the right James. His brother. The Jim Durham drowning in Devil’s Pool was just an accident, then? Nothing more?”
He nodded. “An accident. A weird coincidence that he was in that picture. All of this is about Nick’s brother.” he said, holding up a folder. “Maybe that picture was the only one remaining of him?”
I breathed heavily. “A wild goose chase. Do you think Nick was using the money to find out what happened to his brother?” I asked
“No, it seems he was more interested in having someone keep an eye on Cora, track her movements, the spending of her money. I left the office and came over here. If there’s anything my father wouldn’t want anyone to see, he’d keep it here. Look.” He held up a handful of papers. “It’s all about Bradford.” I could see that Dylan was a little shaken. His speech was strained.
“What else is in there?”
His eyes were steady on mine. “Bradford sold his interests in the firm right before he died. He was pulling up stakes, Mackenzie. My father was handling some loose ends for him…he was going to Germany. And…”
He pulled my chair closer to him with one hand. Our knees were touching. ”What?”
“He was moving investments around. Overseas. And it looks like he was planning on taking Nick with him. There’s information on private schools so I assume it was for Nick.” He was silent for a second letting it sink in. “Other than that there’s stuff on James, his birth, his disappearance,” Dylan shuffled papers, “And a whole medical profile on Bradford.”
I looked over my shoulder towards the door. “Is he due home anytime soon?”
“No, and my mother went to New York for a few days.”
I sat back in thought. “Bradford was planning on leaving the country with Nick and he dies. Nick hires a private investigator and he dies. Samantha goes outside for a walk and is nearly run over. An awful lot of bodies. Is it coincidence?”
Dylan leaned forward towards me. “Tell me about the accident.” I blinked and then closed my eyes. “Please,” he added. He put his hand on my arm. “It’s important.”
“We were going to Boston…” I started. “Things had been so awful between us for months. He’d become so distant. Angry, like he wanted to push me out or he wanted me to leave or something.” I was looking at the floor, choosing my words, “Anyway, I had tickets to the Yankees-Red Sox game and I thought we could go together. Nick liked baseball.” I felt tears in my eyes. “But he was late getting home from work. I decided I was going to drive because he drove like an old man.” I gave a small laugh. “So slow, and I didn’t want to miss Lester throw even one pitch.” It was still hard to talk about. “Fucking baseball game.”
Dylan’s eyebrows were raised. “You were going to a Red Sox game when you had the accident?”
“Yes. I hadn’t gone to a game since my mother died. It was like this huge thing to me. Obviously we never made it.” I half laughed. “Boston lost anyway and it didn’t even matter. None of it mattered.”
His head was down now and I couldn’t see his eyes. “You blame yourself, don’t you? I bet you haven’t watched a game since. That’s your punishment?”
“It’s more complicated than that, Dylan. The Red Sox are connected with so much in my life, since I was kid. The accident is just the latest. I can’t think about baseball without thinking about the rest of it, so I’d rather not think about it at all.”
“Tell me about the accident.” he said.
I sighed. “I took his keys that day. I wouldn’t let him drive.” I stopped talking for a second. Dylan was hanging on every word. His hand was still on my arm. “He got in on the other side. There was tension between us. We got to this intersection and stopped at a red light.” I could hear my voice start to crack. I glanced up. Dylan’s face wasn’t far from mine. “The light turned green. It…it wasn’t dark out yet… And I started going through the intersection. Nick was yelling at me but I can’t remember what he was saying.” My eyes welled up. “The only other thing I remember is that feeling you get when something is about to happen. I had that feeling. I must have seen the truck and knew we were going to collide and I couldn’t do anything to stop it. Then Nick was on top of me and glass was everywhere.” I wiped my face with my hand.
Dylan dropped his head in thought. “What about the driver? What do you know about him?” His voice was soft.
“Nothing really. His name was Francis Dubchinsky. He’d been driving for days with hardly any sleep. No drugs or alcohol or anything like that.”
He looked up at me and for some reason I stared at his mouth. His bottom lip was a little bit fuller than his top lip and was just a little pinker. And he had a tiny freckle just below his lip line on the right side of his mouth.
“Do you know anything else about him?” He was oblivious.
“He’d been driving for a living for nine years, no prior accidents. Married with three children. That’s about it.”
“Where was he coming from? Do you know?”
“Chicago.”
He was still leaning towards me. His hand hadn’t left my arm. “I wonder if there’s a connection to Cora somehow.”
“How could there be? You mean like she paid him to hit us?” He shrugged. “But why? Why would she want to hurt Nick?”
“Maybe she didn’t want to hurt Nick.” It was barely above a whisper.
“Me? But how would the driver know where we’d be? It makes no sense.”
“It was just a thought. We’re just throwing ideas out here.” His head was down. He seemed to be looking at my hands.
“Do you have something to do right now?” I asked.
“What did you have in mind?” He starting organizing everything and put it away in the drawer.
“This.” I pulled the undeveloped roll of film from my pocket. God only knew what was on it. I wasn’t going to take it to the local photomat. I could develop it myself, it would just take time and I needed help. “I can develop it; I just need you to keep an eye out for Cora.” His eyes flashed something. Excitement? Intrigue? Amusement? Some combination of the above.