Chapter 2 - THE KEY THAT DISAPPEARED
Margaret searched the desk three times.
She removed every folder, envelope, receipt, and photograph. She felt beneath drawers and checked the lining of the wooden box where she kept Arthur’s military medals.
The key was not there.
She remembered seeing it four nights earlier.
She had taken it from the desk and held it beneath the lamp while thinking about Calvin Ross’s ring. Then Noah called her downstairs to help with a school project.
Margaret believed she had returned the key to the desk.
Now she was no longer certain.
At dinner, she watched each member of the family.
Ashley complained about a history assignment.
Noah told Edward about a science experiment.
Linda cut her food into small, angry pieces.
Nobody mentioned the architectural plans.
Margaret waited until the children went upstairs.
Then she asked, “Has anyone been inside my desk?”
Linda drank her wine.
“Why would anyone care about your old papers?”
“The lock was damaged.”
Edward looked up.
“Damaged how?”
“Someone attempted to open it.”
Linda smiled without warmth.
“Maybe you forgot the combination.”
“It uses a key.”
“Then perhaps you lost it.”
“I did not.”
Linda leaned back in her chair.
“Are you accusing me?”
Margaret looked at her.
“Should I?”
Edward placed his fork down.
“Can we not do this tonight?”
Linda turned on him.
“Your mother just called me a thief.”
“I did not use that word,” Margaret said.
“You didn’t need to.”
Ashley came halfway down the stairs.
“Why are you yelling?”
Linda immediately changed her tone.
“Everything is fine, sweetheart.”
Ashley looked at Margaret.
“Grandma?”
Margaret forced a smile.
“We are discussing a missing key.”
Ashley’s expression shifted.
Only slightly.
But Margaret noticed.
“Have you seen it?” she asked.
Ashley looked toward her mother.
“No.”
“What does it look like?”
“Small. Brass. The letter H is stamped on one side.”
Ashley gripped the stair railing.
“No. I haven’t seen it.”
Linda stood.
“Go upstairs.”
Ashley obeyed.
Margaret watched her disappear around the landing.
“Why did she look frightened?”
“She looked tired,” Linda replied.
“She looked at you before answering.”
“Teenagers look at their parents.”
Edward sighed.
“Mom, maybe you misplaced the key.”
Margaret turned to him.
“That is possible.”
Linda smiled in victory.
Margaret continued.
“It is also possible someone took it.”
The next morning, Margaret waited until Linda left for a salon appointment.
Edward was at work. Noah was in school.
Ashley had stayed home, claiming she had a headache.
Margaret found her in the laundry room, kneeling beside the dryer.
A folded piece of paper lay in her hand.
She tried to hide it.
Margaret closed the door behind her.
“Ashley.”
The girl looked trapped.
“Grandma, I can explain.”
Margaret held out her hand.
After several seconds, Ashley surrendered the paper.
It was a photocopy of Arthur’s death certificate.
A line had been circled in red.
Cause of death: myocardial infarction.
Someone had written a question beneath it.
Was there an autopsy?
Margaret stared at the words.
“Where did you find this?”
“In Mom’s room.”
“Why were you searching her room?”
Ashley began to cry.
“I wasn’t searching. She told me to get her blue sweater. The closet door was open, and there was a box on the floor.”
“What else was inside?”
“Pictures of Grandpa. Bank papers. Maps of the house.”
“Was there a brass key?”
Ashley wiped her eyes.
“I saw one last week.”
Margaret’s heart began to pound.
“Where?”
“Mom had it.”
“Are you certain?”
“She was holding it while talking on the phone. She said she had found the entrance.”
“What entrance?”
“I don’t know.”
Margaret gripped the death certificate.
“What exactly did you hear?”
Ashley looked toward the door.
“She said, ‘The old woman doesn’t remember what’s underneath her own feet.’”
Margaret closed her eyes.
Arthur had died twelve years earlier.
He collapsed in the garden while trimming roses. Linda had been the only person home with him. She called an ambulance.
That was the story.
Margaret had never questioned it.
Not until now.
“What else did your mother say?”
Ashley hesitated.
“She said something about Thursday night.”
“What?”
“She said they had to open it before the property records changed.”
Margaret looked at the calendar hanging beside the washing machine.
Thursday was two days away.
A car door slammed outside.
Ashley froze.
“My mother’s home.”
Margaret folded the death certificate and slipped it into her pocket.
“Do not tell her we spoke.”
Ashley nodded.
Margaret opened the laundry-room door.
May you like
Linda stood on the other side.
She was holding the missing brass key.
