Maybe Baby Lite (28 page)

Mr. Sneed was a short,
rather pudgy man in his mid-50s. His hairline was receding. He wore
wire-rimmed glasses. His suit looked like something he'd purchased
used 10 years ago. Definitely not your upscale law firm, but
certainly the type of firm I could picture my mom working
at.

Trey made the
introductions and we took our seats in his small, drab office.
Sneed provided copies of the trust disbursement documents that he'd
ordered from the bank that held my funds. Trey and I sorted through
them, separating them into two piles: one being the documents that
had my actual signature authorization, the others that were forged.
Three documents were forged; two of the three were for $1,000 each,
and had been executed with my forged signature during my freshman
year of college. The final withdrawal from the trust was for the
entire balance left of $53,454.78. This was processed just a week
after I'd arrived at the Sinclair estate. Sneed provided a copy of
the fax transmission cover sheet that was on La Vie Belle
stationary.

I was puzzled by my
mother's motivation. The house was paid off or so she'd told me.
I'd given her my Jeep. Her only bills were utilities, food,
clothing, and car insurance. Surely, her salary would've covered
those expenses?

“
Mr. Sneed, did my mother
give notice when she left her job here?”

“
She did not,” he said to
me. “She collected her last paycheck on a Friday and did not show
for work the following Tuesday. Martha, our other part-time clerk,
got worried. Martha drove out to your house in Radcliffe, which
appeared to be empty. When Mr. Sinclair here got in touch with us
last week questioning the status of your trust, well, we tried to
dig deeper. As you know, any documentation concerning your trust
has disappeared or was destroyed. I'm really sorry. I never
expected this from your mother.”

“
Really?” I
asked.

He seemed puzzled that I'd
doubt that. “She was a good, consistent worker here for years, Ms.
Preston. None of the partners saw anything odd or unusual with her
behavior. At least not until just over a month ago.”

“
What happened then?” I
asked.

He seemed uncomfortable
discussing it. “She started coming in a little later on her work
days; generally she seemed as if she wasn’t feeling well. We don’t
know anything for certain, Ms. Preston, but Martha suspected your
mother was pregnant.”

“
Pregnant?” I was
doubtful; pregnancy was always her worst fear.

He nodded and continued.
“It was just Martha’s suspicion, though. Martha and Maggie would
talk some on the one day a week they worked together. Maggie—your
mom, didn’t divulge a lot of details about her personal life. It
was years before we even knew she had a daughter. Martha got the
impression that your mom had met someone that she was really
serious about. I guess Martha just put two and two together, but
who knows, she may have come up with five on that one.”

I was stunned by the
possibility. I knew Mom was young enough for more children, but all
she'd ever done was complain about me.

Trey spoke up. “Thanks for
your time and for producing these copies for us, Mr. Sneed. We'll
be meeting with the prosecutor today to press criminal charges
against Mrs. Preston. Let me make it clear that there's nothing
indicating your firm actively participated with this activity;
however, you know as well as I do that there's an issue of
liability for criminal activities conducted under the auspices of
the employer, in this case your firm, that may result in a civil
suit.”

“
We're a limited liability
partnership, Mr. Sinclair.”

“
I understand that, Mr.
Sneed, however, I'll need to examine how Kentucky regards limited
liability partnerships with respect to tortious injury resulting
from negligence in the administration of trusts. I'll be back in
touch with you if I need more information." Mr. Sneed nodded and
tugged at his collar. I thanked him saying good-bye as Trey guided
me out of the office.

“
Where to now?” I asked
once we stood on the sidewalk.

“
I think we need to gather
more information as to where your mother might’ve gone. Obviously
she's left the current jurisdiction, but that doesn’t prevent us
from making a criminal complaint. It puts an active warrant out for
her at least, which will show up in any other state if she gets
stopped for a traffic infraction. The more information we can
provide the prosecutor’s office, the more attention they’ll give
the case.”

I had no clue as to who
could shed any light on her whereabouts. We had no relatives that I
was aware of. She wasn’t one to have many friends. The only friend
that I recalled was Mona, but I hadn’t seen her since high
school.

I remembered Mona had
stopped over at our house one Sunday afternoon long ago. I'd
overheard her telling Mom that Laurie was pregnant. She'd wanted
Laurie to have an abortion, but she wouldn’t. Mona was upset,
saying that she'd wanted better for Laurie than to end up in the
same place as her. I remember my mom getting defensive with her on
that.

“
What the hell is wrong
with where you’re at, Mona?”

“
Oh, come on Maggie. Is
this the life you'd choose for your daughter?”

“
Hey, if it’s good enough
for me, it’s good enough for her!”

“
You can’t mean that,
Maggie,” Mona said shocked.

“
I like what I do, Mona. I
love the way men look at me, touch me, and want me. I love the
money I make for doing something that I love to do, something that
I’m really good at. My only problem is that they’re starting to
look at Tylar more than me. I don’t want the
competition.”

Mona had a horrified look
on her face. I was in the kitchen, but I heard their conversation.
Mona noticed me then, and whispered something to my
mother.

“
I don’t give a shit what
she hears,” Mom replied. “She needs to face the reality of life.
It’s ‘use or be used.’ Simple as that.”

I tuned out the rest of
their conversation as I went upstairs to my room. Another memory to
be hidden away.

“
Hey, Tylar?” Trey’s voice
cut into my thoughts.

“
I’m
sorry—what?”

“
I asked if you have your
house key.”

“
Oh, yeah. I’ve got
it.”

“
Good, let’s head to
Radcliffe.”

Within 45 minutes Trey had
driven us from downtown Louisville to Radcliffe. I directed him to
our street, Lincoln Trail, pointing out my house on the block. He
pulled the SUV into the driveway. I dug my house key out of my
purse.

I retrieved the mail from
an overstuffed mailbox and went inside, Trey following close
behind. I put the stack of mail on the kitchen counter. The house
was stuffy and empty of all furnishings. It was surreal to see that
everything familiar was missing. Every piece of furniture and every
appliance were gone. I went room-to-room observing the total
emptiness. I checked the bathroom at the end of the hall. There was
a roll of toilet paper left hanging on the holder. A box of condoms
sat alone on the medicine cabinet shelf.

Trey hadn’t said a word.
What possible reason would she have had to desert her home and take
all of my stuff with her? I looked up at Trey, the confusion
evident on my face. He pulled me close to him, wrapping his arms
around me, hugging me tightly.

“
I can't understand why
she'd leave her house, Trey. I mean, if she needed money that
badly, she could've sold the house. Why did she take my trust? This
house is worth more than twice that I would think.”

“
Maybe it’s not her house,
Tylar. We need to check with the county auditor.”

I nodded. Trey was right.
We decided to go to the county offices in Elizabethtown, about 12
miles away. I sorted the mail on the kitchen counter, shoving the
envelopes in my purse to open later. Trey locked the door and we
drove to Elizabethtown.

The visit to the county
auditor’s office revealed that the house I'd grown up in had never
belonged to my mother. It had been purchased in 1991 by a company
called T.J. Property, LLC. The taxes were paid current by the same
company. The auditor’s office did provide Trey with the address of
the LLC. It was a post office box in Jackson,
Mississippi.

On the drive back to
Radcliff, Trey asked if I wanted to question any of the neighbors.
I told him I didn’t. I was convinced my mother had carefully and
meticulously planned her disappearance.

By late afternoon, we'd
met with the Jefferson County prosecutor in Louisville where I
signed a criminal complaint against my mother. Sneed had provided
us with her social security number. The prosecutor pointed out that
we didn’t have much. Trey told them he'd be back in touch with any
additional information. There was nothing left to do.

We returned to the Crowne
Plaza. As Trey showered, I sat on one of the two queen-sized beds
and sorted through my mom’s mail. Most of it was junk mail, unpaid
bills, final request for payment demands, and finally shut-off
notices. There was a letter that had arrived for me from Virginia
Intermont College. It was postmarked two days ago. I opened it. My
fall classes had been dropped due to failure to pay the
registration fees on time. Nothing in the stack provided any clues
as to where my mom had gone with my money.

Trey came out of the
bathroom with a towel draped around his waist, his hair damp and
mussed. Watching him, I was momentarily distracted from my
depression, and I wished I could pull that towel off of him. He
glanced over at me while he sorted through his luggage.

“
Anything interesting?” he
asked.

Busted!

Trey caught me staring and
was calling me out on my lustful thoughts. I hadn’t meant to gawk.
I immediately felt the color rise to my cheeks.

“
Tylar—is there anything
interesting in your mom’s mail?”

“
Uh, no, not really. I’ve
been dropped from the fall schedule thanks to good ‘ole
mom.”

“
I’m sorry, Tylar,” he
said softly. “We’ll figure something out about your tuition,
okay?”

“
There’s nothing to figure
out Trey. I can’t afford it until I get my trust money back; if I
get it back, I should say.”

He gave me a look that
basically told me that the subject wasn't closed, but it was closed
as far as I was concerned. “I’ve got an errand to run,” he
explained. “I should be back here in an hour. Get ready; we’ll go
to dinner when I get back.”

"Okay,” I answered. By the
time Trey returned, I was dressed and ready. He drove us to a very
trendy restaurant called Bistro 301 on Market Street. We were
seated in a booth and given menus. The waitress returned for
cocktail orders. Trey looked over at me.

“
What would you like,
Tylar? Wine?”

Seriously? He's going to
let me have a drink? I glanced quickly at the cocktail menu and
ordered something off of the Skinny Girl section called vodka
sonic. Trey looked slightly amused. He ordered a bourbon and water.
When the waitress returned with our drinks, Trey ordered calamari
appetizers. I had decided on salmon, and Trey ordered pan-seared
trout for dinner. The waitress did the normal gushing over Trey and
finally took leave. I took a long sip of my vodka sonic.

“
You’ve been very quiet
today, Tylar,” Trey observed.

“
Well, that’s about to
change,” I remarked, smiling and downing my drink.

Trey frowned. The waitress
passed. I flagged her down and asked for another. Trey frowned
deeper.

Tough titties!

I started to giggle. He
looked at me uneasily.

“
Look,” I said, “I need
just a bit of liquid courage to get me to the point where I can
tell you what I said that I'd tell you last night. I had an
epiphany.”

“
An epiphany,” he echoed.
“I see.”

Oh that sounds
patronizing, Counselor!

“
Was this epiphany after
you'd finished most of your wine?”

“
Don’t be flippant with
me,” I warned. Trey continued watching me, waiting for the
enlightenment. I waved my hand, “If you’re going to be an ass, then
just forget it.”

“
I’m sorry, Tylar,” he
replied. “Please go on.”

“
Okay,” I started just as
the waitress set my next drink down. I took a sip. “While I was
watching TV, it came to me: the reason for my nightmares. The
reason that you heard what you heard was that I was reliving an
event from my past in my dream at the hospital.”

“
I’m listening,” Trey
said.

“
My senior year of high
school, Daniel was my boyfriend. We’d been seeing each other almost
the whole year. He was a star football player; he had a full ride
to Purdue in the fall. He was way too good for me, and I knew
that.”

Trey frowned and shook his
head when I said that. I ignored him and continued, telling him
everything about the night of my senior prom with Daniel. I
explained about the earrings and necklace, my getting drunk and
passing out and how it was supposed to have been my first time with
Daniel. I got to the part about my waking up in the bathroom and
going to look for my mom. I started tearing up and
stopped.