Mayes, Casey - A Deadly Row

Beneath the letters, I was getting to the bottom of the box. I wasn’t sure what I’d find, but a safety deposit box key was the last thing I imagined.

Even more startling was the note that it was taped to.

Savannah, if you’re reading this, I’m not around anymore. I didn’t know what to do with the contents of this safety deposit box, so I’m dumping it in your lap. I shouldn’t do it, I know that, but I plan to deal with it someday and hopefully you’ll never have to see this letter, or what I’ve hidden from you.

I just can’t deal with it today.

If you are reading this letter, I hope you are well. I often regretted not having more children so you’d have someone in your life once your father and I were gone, but I was thrilled to have you. In many ways, you were my greatest achievement, my legacy, my bid for immortality.

Don’t think badly of me when you open the box.

I didn’t know what else to do.

I hope you do.

Forgive me. I love you.

Mom

I picked up the telephone and dialed my uncle’s number, even though I knew that it was past his bedtime.

“Hello?” he answered after several rings.

“Uncle Thomas, it’s Savannah.”

I could hear the weariness in his voice. “I was hoping you’d call. Just not this late.”

“Sorry, but it couldn’t wait. Do you know anything about a safety deposit box my mother had?”

There was a long pause, so I asked, “Uncle Thomas? Are you still there? I need you to wake up. This is important.”

“I’m awake, trust me. I honestly never put the two things together.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I got a notice last year that a safety deposit box at the old Southern National Bank in your mother’s name had lapsed, and I was named as the other signatory. They asked me if I wanted to renew it, or collect the contents of the box. I went to the bank, and I paid fifty dollars to have them drill it, since I had no idea where the key was. When they got it opened, they put me in a room by myself, and I opened it. Inside was another box, with a note to me.”

“What did it say?”

“That I was supposed to hold it for you until you asked me about it, and not turn it over until then. I wanted to give it to you right away, but I didn’t want to break my word to your mother, either.”

“So you’ve still got it.”

“Not anymore.”

I felt my spirit sink. “What happened to it?”

“When I went to get the first box, I slipped out to your car and put the second one in the backseat under an old blanket. I kept trying to tell you about it, but your mother’s note haunted me. I didn’t know what to do.”

“So, I’ve got it? What’s inside?”

“I didn’t look in either box,” he said. “They were both for you.”

“You shouldn’t have sneaked it into my car,” I said.

“Darlin’, the list of things I shouldn’t have done would fill up a notebook the size of Texas. If I wronged you or your mother, I’m sorry, and that’s the truth.”

“You did the right thing. I just wish you would have told me about it sooner.”

“I’m truly sorry.”

“You’re forgiven,” I said. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got another box to open.”

“At least you won’t have to come back here and go to the bank.”

“I’ll call you tomorrow and tell you what I found.”

“You don’t have to do that,” he said. “I lost that right.”

“Not on your life.”

He sighed. “Then call me tonight.”

“No matter how late it is?”

“Not even if it takes an hour.”

I hung up and grabbed my car keys.

I was panting as I reached the car, and my hands shook as I retrieved the box. A part of me had worried that someone might have taken it since I’d arrived back in Charlotte, but it was still where my uncle had put it.

I thought about opening it right there, but though the parking garage was well lit, it still didn’t feel very secure. Tucking it under my arm, I headed back upstairs to see what was so important that my mother had locked it away from the world.

Back in my suite, my hands were shaking as I opened the box.

Inside were stacks of hundred-dollar bills.

My mouth fell open as I counted them, and I was shocked when I realized there were a hundred of them.

My mother had stuffed ten thousand dollars in a safety deposit box, and she’d asked me for her forgiveness when she dumped it into my lap.

Beneath the money was a brief handwritten note.

And as I read it, I was more shocked than I’d been when I’d found the cash.

Astrid,

I shouldn’t have left you, or the family. More importantly, I never should have taken the money.

I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive this fool.

Use this money to buy yourself a little happiness.

You deserve it.

J.B.

J.B. had to be my uncle. After all, the note said as much, didn’t it? But why hadn’t she spent the money? Had she held a grudge that long over my uncle’s desertion of her and their family?

I was more confused than ever, and I thought about calling Zach, but the man I really wanted to speak with was my uncle.

“Good, you’re still awake,” I said when Uncle Thomas answered his telephone.

“Are you kidding? I’ve been dying to find out what I’ve been holding onto the last two years.”

“Would you believe ten grand in hundred-dollar bills?”

“Not likely. What was inside?”

“Ten grand in hundred-dollar bills,” I said.

There was a pause, and then my uncle said, “You’re not kidding, are you? What was she doing with that kind of cash?”

“You didn’t get a packet of money yourself, did you?”

“Not hardly,” he said. “Why, should I have?”

“That’s not up to me to say. From what I can tell, your brother sent Mom that money and asked for her forgiveness.”

I hated to tell my uncle that his brother hadn’t cared all that much for him, but it was pretty clear he wasn’t surprised by the news.

“That makes sense,” he said. “They were always close.”

“What am I going to do with all of this money?”

“What did the note say?” he asked.

“It told her to spend it on something that would bring her some happiness.”

“Then that’s what you should do,” Uncle Thomas said.

“If she couldn’t bring herself to do it, why should I?”

“Savannah, I don’t have to tell you what a complicated woman your mother was. I’m sure she had her reasons. If you’re not comfortable spending it, maybe you could donate it to your favorite charity.”

“Maybe. I honestly don’t have a clue what I’m going to do with it.”

“Then put it in the hotel safe until you do,” he said. “You can’t just leave that kind of money lying around.”

“You’re right about that. I’m sorry I called you so late.”

“No, I wouldn’t have been able to sleep anyway.” He paused, then asked, “Did J.B. say anything else?”

“That’s strange. I always heard everyone refer to him as Jeffrey,” I said. “And yet the note was signed J.B.”

“My brother always was an odd bird. Sometimes he went by his first name, and sometimes he would only answer to his middle name, but most of the time, among the family, he was just plain J.B.” Uncle Thomas stifled a yawn, and then he said, “I’m going to be up in a few hours, so I should probably try to get a little rest. Thanks for calling me back.”

On an impulse, I asked him, “Uncle Thomas, do you want the money?”

He seemed shocked by the question. “Of course not. It’s not mine.”