Marked. Part II: Becoming Noah Baxter (6 page)

Chapter 12

Saturday, March 22

8:16am

I shuffle into the kitchen to get my morning coffee. It's been three weeks with no phone calls. If Naomi thought I got depressed after our calls, well that's mild compared to how I'm doing now. Sure I desperately miss him, but more importantly, those calls let me know he's alive. Now I haven't a clue and it's slowly eating away at me.

Seth's already ransacking the fridge for food.

I pour myself a mug and fan out yesterday's mail that I was too tired to look through last night.

“Did my skateboarding magazine come?” Seth asks, chomping into an apple behind me.

“
Doesn't look like it.”

“
Bummer.” He goes to walk away but stops, pulling up an envelope. “Why is a private bank in San Fransisco sending you mail?”

I shove aside the catalog I had started leafing through and snatch the envelope from his hand.

It's from Cole Private Bank and Trust.

With shaky hands I rip the top off.

Seth's dangerously close to my personal space, his chomping echoing in my ear, his breath hot on my neck – it's really hard to not smack him right now. 

I pull out the folded papers. From the thinness of it I'd guess it's only two or three pages.

It's a statement.

It's a statement for my bank account that holds fifteen thousand dollars.

“Is this for real?” Seth leans forward, squinting. “How the fuck did you get that?”

I'm too flabbergasted to respond or scold him for his language. I have to blink a few times to make sure I'm seeing this right.

Why do I have this money?

This isn't sitting well with me, not one bit.

I hurry to my room and grab my cell, dialing the bank's number at the top of the page.

Customer service answers.

“I need to speak with Mr. Cole, please?”

“
You need to contact him through his direct line, ma'am.”

“
Can you transfer me?” I plead, desperation pouring out.

“
No ma'am, you need–”

I cut her off, not needing to hear the rest, “
Can I have the number?” 

“
I'm not at liberty to do that. I can get my supervisor for you?”

“
Mr. Cole knows me,” I try, needing her to understand how important it is I speak with him. “Tell him Lily Evans needs to speak with him immediately.”

“
Sorry ma'am, but we aren't permitted to do that.”

I try not to cry out in frustration, she's only doing her job. It wouldn't be fair to her if I lost my patience.

“Okay, maybe you can help me out. Can you tell me when my account was set up?” Please be when I was in San Fransisco and not recently.

“
Of course, can you please give me your account number?”

I read off the numbers and anxiously wait for her to pull it up.

Seth has been standing at my door, watching me acting like a crazy person this whole time, but it doesn't stop the madness that's threatening to overtake me.

“
Okay Ms. Evans, I'm going to transfer you to Mr. Briggs. He handles your account.”

I open my mouth to ask her why she can't just tell me, but I'm already on hold listening to classical music.

Don't freak out. This is most likely what Jay had you secretly sign, it doesn't mean anything.

“
Ms. Evans,” a friendly man's voice picks up, “Andrew Briggs, your account advisor. What can I help you with today?”

“
I need to know why I have this money and when it was activated.” I skip any pleasantries, needing answers.

“
Oh, I'm sorry, was that not what you had wanted? I have here that you wanted fifteen transferred to your account from your trust every month, but I can talk to your investors about more if you'd like?” He sounds nervous, thinking I'm upset with him, that this isn't how I wished my money to be handled.

“
My trust?” My voice squeaks, my nerves in shambles.

“
Yes, the one set up for you last month.”

I swallow into my dry, thick throat, “How much is my trust for?”

“Well, it's new so you can't be expecting much return yet. It's still close to the original three million you put in.”

“
Excuse me?” I practically choke on the words – clearly I heard him wrong.

“
Well, these things take time Ms. Evans. You have made interest, but you won't really see a significant change for awhile,” he continues, still sounding fearful I'm upset with my account.

“
It doesn't show you how I got my trust does it?” I almost hang up, not wanting to hear the answer.

“
No ma'am. That's confidential and I don't have access.”

“
Is it possible for you to transfer me to Mr. Cole?”

“
I'm sorry, but I don't have that authority.”

Of course he doesn't.

“Does
anybody
I can talk to?”

“
I can leave a message with his assistants, but they won't get back to you until Monday or later.”

“
Can I talk to one of them?”

“
Sorry again Ms. Evans, but Mr. Cole doesn't take part in the main banking and doesn't allow us access to himself. The only thing I can do is forward a message.”

“
Fine. Find a way for him to know Lily Evans wants to speak with him ASAP.”

“
Yes, ma'am. I'm sorry if you're not happy–”

I quickly interrupt, “You've been great. I just have a personal matter I need to discuss with him.”

He becomes relieved, “I'm happy to hear that. Anything else I can do for you?”

“
No. Thanks.” I hang up. Is that why Jay was so secretive? He knew I wouldn't accept this money? My brain keeps trying to make me believe the worst has happened and that he wanted me to have this money if something happened to him, but I won't allow myself to go there. Not yet. It can't be because he's gone, it just can't. Wouldn't Ben have the decency to inform me? What if he's dead too? No, I would think the bank would know at least that.

Oh, shit.

I quickly go to the living room and fire up the computer, ready to do some research that might give me clues to if anything happened to Jay or Ben.

Seth follows, intrigued with what's going on, while I search for answers on the world wide web.

“Who's Benedict Cole?” Seth munches in my ear, increasing my insanity level.

I continue ignoring him, scanning if any sites mention an injury or death. After twenty minutes of searching I find nothing out of the ordinary.

I do another search, browsing San Fransisco news sites for anything suspicious.

Nothing.

Well that's good, but it doesn't ease my worry that something happened to Jay.

I'm calling. I don't care if I promised Jay I wouldn't. It's worth having him yell and get pissed at me.

The line rings once before taking me straight to the Cole Private Bank and Trust automated system.

Goddammit! Nothing is simple when it comes to that man!

I turn to Seth, “What would you do if you couldn't find the answers you were looking for, but desperately needed?”

He gives me a mischievous wiggle of his brows, “
I'd go to the source, of course.”

I jump up and wrap my arms around him, “
Brilliant!”

Jay never forbid me from coming to him. Sure, it was implied, but this is what he gets for only giving me the bare minimum of information and not contacting me for three weeks.

I look up flights to San Fransisco. The next plane leaves Phoenix airport in two hours, giving me plenty of time to get there. I order the ticket, talking to Seth as I do, “Can you tell Mom I'm having a girl's weekend?”

“
You want me to lie to Mom?”

“
We both know this wouldn't be the first time.”

“
I know, I just wasn't expecting that from you. You've always been the follow the rules, do what you're told person.”

“
Mm,” I mumble, half listening as I type in my credit card information. “So will you or won't you?”

“
Of course I will.”

“
Good,” I rush to the front door, grabbing my car keys and wallet.

“
Hey, sis?”

I stop right before slamming the door, frustrated that he's slowing me down, “What?”

“Be careful, okay?”

The worried expression on Seth's face has me going to give him a big squeeze, squishing him in my arms, “I will.”

“And you're still wearing your pajamas,” he snickers.

I look down. Oops, it appears that I am.

Inside my bedroom I throw on underwear, jeans, and long sleeve shirt, stuffing my wallet in my front pocket, stopping to brush my teeth and pull my hair back.

I hop down the hall putting my shoes on while I go, almost knocking Cody over on my way through the door. As I'm backing out – tires screeching, the whole dramatic bit – I slam on my brakes to stare at Jay's old place.

First things first: find out if this fucker really is following me and if I'm going to need to ditch him.

I drive my car at the speed limit, my leg bouncing with the adrenaline flooding my body. I park at the nearby grocery store and wait a beat before getting out. I casually look around, but don't see his car. I pull out my phone to call Seth and ask him if the neighbor's car is still in the driveway when the car pulls into the lot.

Holy shit, I think he really
is
following me. I kind of expected to get in a good laugh for being paranoid.

Okay, new plan.

I stroll into the grocery store, hoping that my nerves aren't visible. I head towards the toilet paper aisle, thinking that would be a good reason for rushing here. You can't live without TP, right?

Every so often I sneak a peek at the mirrors on the ceiling. The third time I lock eyes with my neighbor, who's a few rows over. I quickly advert mine, pretending I wasn't paying attention.

My neighbor appears so normal, his looks pleasant but not memorable. His demeanor's always distant; however, it never would have made me think anything other than him being an anti-social kind of guy. It makes me wonder how many dangerous people you pass in a day and don't even know it.

Hmm, well that's not really something I care to think too heavily on.

I feign interest in comparing the cost of two brands, finally deciding on the one I want.

I keep expecting my heart to beat erratically but it never does, almost as though it's getting used to the adrenaline surges and isn't phased anymore. I mean, don't get me wrong, it's still frantically beating, but it's nothing like it would have been before Jay. I'm not sure if that's a good thing. I don't like the idea that this kind of situation is something my body is growing used to.

I don't look back as I pay or when I get into my car. I'm glancing in the rear view mirror the whole ride home, but my neighbor never comes into view.

Once I'm safely inside my house, I look out my kitchen window just as the neighbor's pulling back into his driveway.

“
Boys!” I shout, turning around to find my brothers.

“
Yeah!” They yell in unison from the living room.

I go to them, a plan formulating, “I need your help.”

“With what?” Cody pauses the video game they've started.

“
I need you to be my diversion.”

This now has Seth's full attention.

“Okay...” I lick my lips, ready to reveal more than I probably should, “The new neighbor has been following me.”

Seth's eyebrows raise and his eyes twinkle in excitement. Cody looks like I've finally let my brother's antics rub off on me.

“I'm not sure why he is, but the last time someone followed me I was kidnapped.”

I watch Cody register what I'm talking about while Seth yells out, “I knew it! I knew those guys weren't who they said they were! I even told mom that she shouldn't have let you go! Ha!”

I give him a glare that has him shutting his trap.

“
I need to get to the airport and I don't want him following or knowing where I went.”

“
So what do you want from us?” Cody asks apprehensively.

“
You're going to distract him enough that I can get away.”

“
Sweet!” Seth fists the air.

“
I was thinking you guys could go over – but not enter,” I warn, “for a reason I haven't come up with yet, then when you have him distracted I can get away–”