Redemption (3 page)

He took her exuberance as a positive answer to his question, even though she never said yes.

When they got back to Boston, Ian left her to call his buddies and family to break the happy news. Lily packed. She packed all of her accumulated cold weather gear. She had just sent for her portable storage unit from Portland and the boxes still lined her hallway. Luckily, her firm had a place to store what she needed to, including the McLaren. It was all in place. Her townhouse was cleared out, her possessions tucked away where he couldn’t find them. She laid a letter across the piano keys, knowing he would find it there. That was the day she left to return to her home in Iceland.

How could I have let it go that far?
That picture was the last in the book. Now, when the year was hours from its end, she could lay the book to rest. She tucked it safely within the books on the mantle, between her well read novels.

The phone didn’t even startle her when it finally rang. She knew Renee would call.

“Hello, Renee.”

Renee spoke so fast that it was even hard for Lily to understand. Renee would be her family, if she had true family, the only other woman around twenty-five in the area. The end of the line came with screams of “You have to” and “It’ll be the greatest night of your life.” Lily couldn’t protest any longer and agreed to meet at the bar where everyone, unfortunately, knew her name. Another new year.

She put on what she hoped would be her most unattractive ensemble. Comfy jeans, her boots, of course, her blue thermal, and a faded navy flannel shirt. No makeup or hair products, just a simple rubber band holding her hair together at the nape of her neck. She would appear as just one of the guys, she hoped.

It had been two months, one week, four days, four hours, and thirteen minutes since he last saw her.

Ian sat on the piano bench in the den of the townhouse where he couldn’t escape her. He had spent the better part of the last two months there, wondering what went wrong.

He took a swig from the bottle of red wine that sat beside him, one of the twenty she had left in the wine cellar. He pulled her letter from his pocket, turning it over and over in his hands before opening it for at least the thousandth time. The folds were barely keeping the cream colored paper together. He argued with himself whether or not to read it again. There couldn’t be any more meaning in the words than what he had already acquired. His heart won out over his mind, as he began to read it once again.

Even though he had every word memorized, he needed the letter in his hands. To keep the last piece he had of her, fragile and falling apart like he was.

He had called Manny the day after she left. He wasn’t sure that he could ever leave.

After searching every inch of the townhouse and badgering every person he thought could have known her, he was still left empty. He was beginning to think she was right; he was never going to find her.

Every time his phone rang, his heart sped up. This time, it was just his mother.

“Hey, Mom.”

“Honey, are we ever going to see you again?”

“Yes, mother.”

“Are you practicing? Will you be ready for the concert?”

“Yes of course I’m practicing; I’ve been ready for this for years. You know that, Mom,” he replied, rolling his eyes while taking a swig of wine.

“Are you going out tonight? It is New Year’s Eve.”

“I wasn’t planning on it.”

“Then come to the house. You know your father would love to see you. It’s just not the same here without you knocking around in the guest house. At least then, we saw you once a week. It’s been over three weeks, honey. You didn’t even make an appearance at Christmas.”

He could tell she was worried, but really didn’t feel like placating her at the moment.

“Mother, I’m in no shape right now to come to one of your parties.”

“Oh, it’s only about a hundred and fifty people. You’d know almost everyone.”

“How many of them are single women in their twenties?” He took a swig, then swallowed hard.

“Well…”

“Forget it, mother. I can’t. I just can’t,” he replied, effectively cutting her off.

“Staying in that townhouse isn’t healthy, you know.”

“I know, but it’s the only place I feel close to her.”

“What are you waiting for? She told you she wasn’t coming back.”

“No, she said I wouldn’t find her, not that she wouldn’t be back.”

“I’ll save the rest of this argument for another time. Just promise you’ll come over before your next concert. I miss your playing in the music room.”

“Yes, I’ll be there. Enjoy your party.”

“Happy New Year, darling.”

“Happy New Year.” Ian hung up the phone and grabbed the now empty wine bottle.

Making his way to the kitchen, he threw the bottle in the trash, and went to the wine fridge to retrieve another one.

A knock on the front door startled him and his feet dragged across the hardwood floor as he made his way to the door.

“Hey, Ian. Got a package for you.”

“Hey, Charlie,” he greeted Charlie, his mailman, while taking the package from him.

“Still no word on your Lily?”

“No, nothing yet.”

“I have something that might help.” Charlie dug through his bag until he found the envelope he was looking for. “I know I shouldn’t be doing this, but it might help. I found it stuck in the back of my truck.”

Ian took the envelope that was undeniably a cell phone bill. “Oh, Charlie, you’ve just given me the best Christmas present ever.” Ian stated, as he reached out and hugged Charlie.

“I just hope it helps. Wish I could do more.”

Ian pulled back and shook Charlie’s hand vigorously. “I’m sure this will be more than I could have ever hoped for. Thanks.”

“Happy New Year.”

“I certainly hope so. You too.”

Ian shut the door and ran back to the kitchen as fast as his feet could carry him. He threw the package filled with sheet music on the counter then ripped open the envelope. He slowly read through every number. His house, his cell. Her work, her secretary... Finally, there was one number he didn’t recognize – area code five zero three.

Not thinking what to say, he dialed the number. His heart raced and his pulse took flight as the other end continued to ring. Then a click – voicemail.

“You’ve reach Rebecca Swift. I’m unable to get to my phone right now. If you don’t leave me a message, I can’t call you back. It’s your decision.”

He anxiously awaited the beep. “Hey, Rebecca, my name is Ian Holt. I’m a friend of Lily Edwards? She gave me your number to call in case I needed to get a hold of her. It’s kind of an emergency, so if you could call me back at 617-555-2432 as soon as possible. That’s 617-555-2432. Anytime, day or night. Thanks.” He hung up the phone. Then it began, the long wait.

He decided to start the easy way. Google. He set up his laptop on the kitchen table and began to search. First, a reverse number look up. Nothing, except he found it was a Portland number. This prompted him to do a name search through The Portland Tribune home page.

He actually got three hits off the name Rebecca Swift. The first, an engagement announcement for a couple in their fifties. He discounted that one because the voice he had heard was much too young. The second Rebecca Swift, had placed as the runner up in the Miss Teen Portland pageant the previous year. Too young.

The third was an article about an FBI agent named Rebecca Swift. She was the lead on a federal murder case that had taken place at the Portland facility of The Manchester Group. Bingo! That was the same company that Lily had worked for in Boston.

He logged onto The Manchester Group homepage. He had never questioned Lily about her job, as she never thought it was that exciting. He had no idea the group had seven offices in the States and several scattered throughout the globe. This just brought on a whole new plethora of questions, ones he didn’t know if he wanted the answers to.

He didn’t know Rebecca; therefore, she must be able to help him. Lily had said, after all, that he didn’t know anyone who would know where she was. Ian decided to make a list of all the things he did know about Lily. Which ones were true though?

She had told him that she was an only child. That she had lost her parents while she was still in college. She was left a substantial inheritance, but liked having a career. He never really understood what an investment banker did, but she seemed to enjoy it, so he never questioned it. She loved working for The Manchester Group because she was able to travel, one of her favorite obsessions. She had friends located all over the world. Her flexible schedule and large amount of funds at her disposal gave her the opportunity to travel often. Yet, since meeting Ian, she had never planned another trip.

As far as past romances, he only knew of one. She only ever talked about one; Ryan. She said they had met while she was visiting an old family friend in London. Ian assumed that that meant he was British. They had a short courtship, as she called it. They became engaged, but soon after, her parents died and she had to return to the States. After trying a long distance relationship for a while, she was settling the estate and trying to finish school, it just didn’t work out. By the time she was done with school, it was too late for them. Very vague. He knew that wasn’t the whole story, but didn’t want to push it for fear of reopening old wounds.