It had been the best Christmas Jane ever experienced, at least since she’d become an adult. Kyla had called Thursday night and insisted she spend the entire day at Harding Hillside. Both Lillian and Lee had voiced their agreement, albeit in semi-distant voices half-suffocated by Bing Crosby’s legendary performance of “Happy Holidays.”
Although the day had provided a healthy dose of normality—listening to more Crosby and Lillian’s favorite, Barbra Streisand, sharing childhood stories of Santa beliefs, and eating a five-star-chef level mid-afternoon dinner compliments of Kyla—the four had spent two hours contemplating and planning today’s mission.
The skull session was prompted by the richness of the meal—honey-glazed ham, several casseroles including nibblet corn, green-beans, sweet potatoes, homemade bread, and two desserts, pecan pie and coconut cake—and two round-trip walks to the mailbox and back.
Lillian fumed after Lee expressed gratitude that Connor Ford had delivered two recording devices to the District Attorney’s office before someone ransacked her house and riddled the king’s headboard with sixteen nine-millimeter bullets. “We have no choice but to kick Ray in the balls.” Lillian then suggested she and Lee, Jane and Kyla if they chose, go to Ray’s house and shoot out all eight of the floor-to-ceiling windows surrounding the Lodge’s great room.
Thankfully, Lee had offered a better idea. “Too noisy. We silently broke into his place once, let’s do it again. We just need to find a time he’s going to be out-of-town a day or two.” Jane instantly knew Lee’s suggestion was one that fit her to a tee, with slight modifications. Not because she was a seasoned burglar, but because she needed to prove her worth to her three companions.
“Too risky, and don’t forget you two got caught.” Jane had said. “In the off-chance Ray was to show up at the worst time, I’d have a better chance of weaseling my way to safety than if he caught you two lovebirds. Again.”
Lee had given Jane an opportunity to further distance herself from Ray and to earn some loyalty points for the good side, as Lillian called it. “He’d probably shoot you on sight. You’re ten times the threat to him as the three of us.” Lee said, reaching for Lillian’s hand as they approached McVille Road and Kyla’s mailbox.
Jane had quickly responded. “No, he won’t. He doesn’t know I’ve jumped ship.”
And this convinced Lee and Lillian to support today’s project: Jane, after verifying Ray was spending two days with Ted at his Guntersville cabin on the lake, would go to the Lodge alone, enter, and explore to her heart’s content. She was confident Ray had not changed the back door security code but was less certain she could figure out the safe’s combination.
***
Now it’s showtime. Christmas is over. And so was yesterday’s gorgeous weather. A cold front had moved in at midnight. At 6:00 AM, it was foggy and 34 degrees with only a light mist, but forecasters warned of freezing rain mixed with snow by midmorning. Saturday was going to be sloppy and slippery.
After plotting today’s mission, Kyla had insisted Jane spend the night. The two had made a quick run to Jane’s house for proper clothing, toiletries, her One Year Bible, and her leather-bound copy of Oswald Chambers’ “My Utmost for His Highest.” The last two items Jane described as, “something she couldn’t live without.”
It was now 6:30. God and Chambers had spiritually refreshed Jane during her one-hour devotion. As she descended the front porch steps, she couldn’t believe her good fortune. The new Equinox was a godsend. Although the deep blue Chevrolet was only a loaner, she believed she could afford it. “Thank you, Jesus.”
The problem hadn’t been money, although that’s the excuse she’d used with Lee when she’d asked for his advice. Her 1999 Impala had broken down, for the umpteenth time, last Tuesday and she’d called Lee. He and Lillian had come immediately and given her a ride to Boaz Chevrolet. After the wrecker arrived with her old clunker, Lillian had insisted it was time for Jane to pull the plug on the car her parents had bought new, even offered to help Jane make the car payment.
For two hours, Jane, along with Lee and Lillian, had considered new vs. used, Malibu’s vs. Equinox’s. Jane had finally decided on a gorgeous but high-mileage 2019 Equinox, with one condition: she be allowed to test drive it a few days before making the final decision.
Jane slowed as she approached Highway 431. She glanced to her left and saw her decrepit Impala in the Boaz Chevrolet service center’s parking lot. Lee and Lillian were so good to her. It embarrassed Jane, given her lying, especially lying about something as insignificant as whether she could afford a newer vehicle. “Little things can become big things,” Jane thought as the red light changed and she pressed the gas pedal. The Equinox lunged forward, nearly bumping the car in front. Her Impala would have barely moved.
Ray was the only one who knew (other than her out-of-town bank) that she was a wealthy woman, wealthy by Boaz and Sand Mountain standards. Lee and Lillian would die if they knew Elita’s adoptive parents had paid Jane a million dollars in 1986 as a reward for the disclosure of the whereabouts of Elita, their adopted daughter. Jane thought of nothing else as she drove south on Highway 431.
At Mountainboro Road, Jane turned right and tried to imagine the pain Rachel felt when she lost Elita the second time.
***
The mist had turned to a drizzle by the time Jane arrived at the Lodge. She eased the Equinox down the steep incline to the left side of the detached garage. Here, her vehicle was hidden from Skyhaven Drive.
Jane exited, grabbed an empty duffel except for a flashlight, and cut across the yard to the back door. She didn’t hesitate at entering 12122121, Ray’s high school football number forward and backwards two times each. Almost instantly, the green light appeared at the top right of the keypad and the device beeped. She depressed the door handle and breathed a sigh of relief, not knowing what she would have done if Ray had changed the code. She took two steps inside and recalled what Lee had suggested.
Jane left the back door open and retreated across the small deck and down the stairs. She walked the sidewalk to the right rear of the primary structure and stood inspecting the electrical panels. Lee had noticed during his and Lillian’s break-in that the electrical power to the Lodge was fed underground from Skyhaven Drive. There were three 200-amp boxes connected to the main meter. Jane suspected one fed the Lodge, another, the detached garage, and the last, Ray’s outdoor kitchen and pavilion. As instructed, she flipped off all three disconnects. Now, any electrically energized cameras or other recorders would be inoperable, and she knew Ray didn’t have a generator.
Back inside, Jane walked across the great room and suppressed the temptation to ascend the angled stairway to explore the upstairs. Instead, she continued and turned left down an L-shaped hall and on to the master bedroom. It was a mess. The bed was unmade. Clothes scattered on the floor and slung across a rocker in the far-right corner. The door to Ray’s separate study was closed, but thankfully, it was unlocked.
Jane walked past Ray’s giant custom-built desk and opened the blinds. Across the room, she stood staring at the bookcases. She almost panicked when she imagined the doorway to the hidden room would need electricity to open. After moving a few books on the eye-level shelf, a slide-bolt appeared. “Thank you, Jesus.” That’s all that secured the hinged bookcase door from the bookcase to its left. In seconds, Jane was inside the hidden space, mostly dark given the overcast sky and the absence of electricity. Jane retrieved the flashlight Kyla had insisted she bring. The safe was on the left wall, a little above chest high, but something else caught her attention.
On a far table, one maybe three feet by three feet, virtually the width of the narrow room, she instantly recognized her and Rachel’s diaries. Jane took two steps and saw an accordion file folder toward the back of the table. Inside was her wall decor: an assemblage of printed photos, newspaper articles, and even the red, white, and blue streamers she’d salvaged from the spinning ball at the Valentine’s dance that night fifty years ago where it all started. “Ray must have moved everything from his office to here.” Jane said in a whisper. “I guess he thought it was safer.”
Jane found Rachel’s 7/1/69 – 12/31/69 diary and turned to the first page. Again, tempted. This time to retreat into Ray’s study, sit at his desk, and read for hours. Thankfully, she recalled Kyla’s words before leaving Mom and Pop Harding’s bedroom last night, “stay brave and stay focused. Sharon, Kyle, and the James brothers are depending on you.” Jane closed the diary, laid it next to a dozen others, and returned to Ray’s safe.
The Pencil-Driven Life 