The Puzzle (20 page)

“What record?” I asked, quietly, as I crossed the threshold.

“You’re a bright woman, Sam. You’ll figure it out.” With that, she quickly shut the door between us.

I walked slowly back to the car and got in, trying to figure out what I had just heard. I started the engine and glanced up in time to see Jack just staring at me through his office window as I slowly backed out of their driveway.

Chapter 38

Breaking Records

I drove over to his latest construction site to talk with Mike because he claimed he was too busy to meet elsewhere. I was relieved it was located just a mile or so outside of town. Apparently, someone from the city was building a magnificent post and beam wonder and, according to Mike, price was no object.

Mike was expecting me and said to walk right in when I arrived at the construction trailer. I knocked and entered. “Hi, Mike. Thanks for seeing me. Jack said you guys were busy and he wasn’t kidding. You have quite a crew out there.” I gestured toward the new building site. “So far, it looks very impressive.”

“It’s large scale all right and our clients requested it to be finished as soon as possible. Yeah, things are moving right along,” he replied, smiling proudly. “And we’re on schedule.”

“You have a good reputation,” I added. “Word spreads around. Hopefully, it will stimulate the local economy with some spillover reaching into town. I can’t believe you’ve gotten so much accomplished. I drove by here on the main road about two weeks ago and almost didn’t recognize it today.”

“We’re excited. It’s a great project. Plus, we’ve worked out all the plans with the owners. And get this! They only wanted to be consulted by phone and then flew off to Europe, leaving the rest to our expertise. They are my kind of clients.” Mike laughed easily while shaking his head as he headed for his desk to have a seat. “What can I do for you today?”

“Mike, do you mind if I ask you something personal? I have to admit …I’m almost embarrassed by this,” I said awkwardly.

He leaned back. “Hey, I have nothing to hide. Go ahead and ask away, Samantha.”

“Mike, I don’t know what other way to broach this subject, so I’ll be straight forward with you. Were you ever in some kind of trouble with the law?”

“What the hell?” he asked, nearly falling out of his chair.

I suddenly felt apprehensive. Lately, I’d known Mike to be easy-going most of the time. This was another side and another story I suddenly didn’t think I wanted to get into. “Maybe this might not have been a good idea, being so blunt this way. I…”

“What a line of bullshit! Who told you that?” he demanded, thoroughly upset.

“They wish to remain anonymous,” I said, somewhat uncomfortable.

“Yeah, I bet they do,” he fumed. “What a crock! I don’t have any record.”

I leaned in. “You don’t have a police record?” This blame game wasn’t working.

“No! Absolutely not!”

“Are you sure about no police record?” I asked, obviously walking a minefield.

“Of course not! What is this anyway?” he asked, annoyed. “Why the crazy questions?” He leaned forward. “Is this some kind of a joke, Sam?”

“Why no. It’s just that Barb…” I stopped cold.

“Barbara put you up to this? What does she have to do with this? And what record is she referring to? I don’t have any police record and she knows that.” He was livid.

Now I was confused and humiliated. Either I didn’t hear her properly, or I had my facts thoroughly screwed up.

“…Mike, I’m sorry. I must have misunderstood what she said. Now I’m totally at a loss as to what she meant.”

“Okay, let’s back up here,” Mike said. “I know for a fact, Barbara would never say anything like that about me intentionally. So, why don’t you just repeat what she told you and maybe we can figure this out.
”

So I did, explaining my conversation with Jack: asking him about Stephen and why he left Jack so abruptly. I stopped short of Jack’s own speculation about Stephen’s demise and any possible ramifications I thought it had on those I had already spoken to.

Mike’s face sobered immediately. “Oh, that record. I figured you would ultimately find out. I just didn’t expect it to be of much interest to you. That’s all. What could you possibly do after Stephen was already dead?”

I was suddenly icy cold, feeling I might not want to hear what he was about to tell me.

“…So, there was a record?”

“Yes. There was, but not mine,” he said, calmly. “Stephen’s.”

“Come again?” I asked, struggling for some kind of restraint. “Stephen had a police record?”

“No, not a police record,” he corrected, maintaining a level, calm tone.

“Then what?” I asked warily
.

“His record from the adoption home,” he said, patiently waiting for my reaction.

“That’s impossible! He didn’t have an adoption record! Stephen told me he lost both his parents when he was a toddler, saying he was lucky to go straight to a foster family. I tried to question him about the Blackburns and their car accident, but it was a sore subject of discussion with him that he never wanted to talk about. Apparently, they were the only parents he ever knew.” My head was spinning. “I always wondered why they never adopted him. That topic was off limits, too. Stephen said, ‘the past was the past. Why not just leave it alone?’ So, ultimately, I did. I let it go, not wanting to put any additional pressure on him. It was his life. He had to live with his own personal demons and decisions. Besides, I felt there was nothing more I could do or say to change his mind.”

“You really didn’t know he was in an adoption home?” Mike asked. “From the look on your face, you probably didn’t know he was abandoned as a baby either. Did you?”

“No,” I said, shaken by his words. “No, I didn’t. Since his death, I have been trying to get more information on his biological parents, but no one would disclose any of that information to me because of privacy issues.”

“You see,” explained Mike, “apparently, Stephen did his own investigation, filling out all kinds of papers, going back and forth with a state agency. I’m surprised you weren’t aware of it.”

“No,” I sighed, embarrassed. “I was only married to him, that’s all.” My ignorance stung.

“He told me on one of those rare nights we went out and had a drink. We were both exhausted after a particularly long day. Both of us had worked on a project, landing a big client for Jack. Stephen crunched the numbers and I handled the layout. After a few beers, he confided in me. I was kind of surprised. I didn’t realize how much it must have festered and bothered him all those years, you know, wondering who his real parents were.”

He shook his head. “When Stephen told me he found out he was abandoned as a baby, I just couldn’t believe it. He said the records showed no one ever knew who his real parents were. He was virtually left on a doorstep and abandoned. I tried to offer him some perspective, telling him he wasn’t missing anything. Hell, I
knew
my mother. And look how that turned out.”

I didn’t know how to counter with an opinion; so I offered none and waited.

“What bothered me the most was a few days later, he appeared very upset.”

“About what?”

“He was carrying on about how he didn’t like the information he had discovered and there had to be something wrong. He was talking in circles and didn’t make much sense. I approached him, to ask what the problem was. I asked him if maybe I had said something wrong. He nearly bit my head off saying, ‘You’re not the problem, I am, now get lost!’ I didn’t know what he was referring to, but I cut him some slack after that and let him be.”

“Was there anything you might speculate on, about why he was acting so unusual?” I asked.

“He obviously must have received information or finally uncovered something that really upset him. Frankly, other than that, I don’t have any idea what it was.”

This was another unexpected addition to some of the strange facts I already had in my possession. First, there was the unsettling uncertainty about some numbers, and then this. Barbara was referring to Stephen, when she said to ask Mike for his record. She apparently was outside Jack’s door and overheard our conversation.

“Mike, do you think Jack or Barbara know more than they have let on? I mean, do you think they have knowledge about Stephen’s past they might not want anyone else knowing, including what Stephen eventually found out?” Maybe, I had missed something I should have picked up on. I couldn’t help, but question everyone’s motives, considering the circumstances.

He thought about it for a moment, and then shook his head. “No, I don’t think so. Jack would have said something to me. I’m sure of it. Especially after Stephen died. I think he was just as baffled like the rest of us were about what really caused Stephen’s abrupt departure. Just thinking about his car accident makes me sick. We weren’t close, and other than him confiding in me that one time about his past, Stephen and I just kept working alongside one another, keeping a respectful distance on our differences.”

On an impulse, I decided to change direction. “What did you think of Ben?” I thought Mike might have a different take on what he was really like.

“He was a reckless risk-taker and about as wild as they come. Ben would do almost anything on a dare, scared even me sometimes.

“Are you absolutely certain about that?”

“Now, if you want a guy with a record, without a doubt, he’s definitely the one.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes. His so-called grandparents were influential in town, so things weren’t exactly advertised when he did get in trouble. Like everything else regarding him, it got swept under the rug, along with any sentencing that never materialized. Of course, that was years ago when he was a lot younger, but I often wondered whether he actually changed over time, or whether he cleverly hid behind an obscure smokescreen of forgotten memories.”

“What about nowadays?” I asked. “I mean, having any influence.”

“I think as time slid by, so did whatever leverage he had in town. It seemed to evaporate. As Ben matured and they grew older, and then retired, the rumors sort of died out and people didn’t talk much about it, or just didn’t seem to care one way or the other.”

“Interesting,” I said, already mentally rearranging information in my mind.

“Yeah. A lot of things happened here years ago to a lot of people and eventually, like everything else, it all finally got washed away by time: erased by convenient memory lapses.”

“Is there anything more you could add?” I asked, but then realized by the finality of his tone he was finished on this particular subject.

“Bad things happen when buried secrets are stirred up unexpectedly, Sam. The past is best left alone, if you know what I mean. If there is a lesson to be learned from all this, please try and remember that.”

I must have missed that class at school.

Chapter 39

Cooking With Ben’s Version

Fate was pointing me in one direction and one direction only. I opened the door of the food market and marched back to Ben’s office. Once there, I saw through the glass that he was alone and not on the phone, so I knocked. He saw me, and at first, was surprised, and then smiled. Was everything he said cleverly packaged in deception? I smiled back as he approached the door. Hesitation was not in my vocabulary that day. I was totally into confrontation.

“Samantha. Come on in. Can I get you a cup of coffee?” he offered.

“Sure, why not? Do you have a couple of minutes? I need to talk to you.”

“What’s up?” he asked, as he walked back toward his desk with two coffees.

I was determined to hear his version. “I have to ask you some more questions about Stephen. I’m hoping you can straighten a few things out for me. I’m confused about the inconsistencies being told to me and thought maybe you could shed light on some of them.”

“I’ll do the best I can.”

My faltering days were slowly fading into the sunset with a sizzle. “I’ll be blunt. I heard you had an extensive police record. Is that true?”

There was an obvious silent pause. Then he laughed.
 
“…Well, you get right to the point, don’t you? Do you interrogate all men this way for potential dating material?”

“I’m not joking around, Ben. I’m serious. Dead serious,” I said, staring him down.

His smile slowly faded. “What’s it to you?” he asked aggressively. “I thought you just wanted to talk about Stephen.”

“I do. And I will get to that in a minute. But I wanted to hear about your history from you in person, I’m not very fond of hearsay and innuendo. Are you?”

He slumped in his chair. “It’s true. Big deal. So what? It was a long time ago.”

“How long ago?” I asked, sipping my coffee.