Fool Me Once

Maybe, Maya thought now, in that terrible room… maybe that was where death first started to follow her.

Maya stayed on the floor and closed her eyes. She tried to slow down her breathing and keep the sounds at a distance.

The memory nudged her again: Dad hated cigarettes.

Right, okay. Claire started smoking, and Dad would freak out. He started searching Claire’s bedroom at night, finding the cigarettes, and throwing small tantrums. The smoking stage didn’t last long. But while it did, Claire finally thought of a hiding place their father would never look.

Maya’s eyes lit up.

She quickly stood and hurried toward the living room. The old trunk-ironically, Nana’s old trunk-was there. Claire had used it as a coffee table. There were family photos on top. Maya started taking them off and putting them on the floor. Most of the photos were of Daniel and Alexa, but there was one of Eddie and Claire from the wedding. Maya stopped and stared at them. Both looked so damned young and hopeful and happy and mostly unsuspecting. These two had no idea what life had in store for them, but then again, no one does, do they?

The inside of the trunk was used to store tablecloths and linens. Maya removed them and started feeling her way along the bottom.

“My father brought the trunk over from Kiev,” Nana had told them during a visit when they were little, years before the cancer choked her to death, when Nana was spry and healthy, when she would take them swimming or teach them tennis. “See this?”

The two little girls bent close.

“He built it himself. It’s a secret compartment.”

“Why was it a secret, Nana?” Claire had asked.

“So he could hide his mother’s jewelry and cash. Every stranger is a potential thief. Remember that. You two girls. When you’re older. You will always have each other. But never leave your valuables where others can find them.”

Maya’s finger found the small seam. She dug down, heard the click, and slid back the secret panel. Then, just as she had done as a child, she bent close and looked inside.

The phone was there.

Maya pulled it out with a smile of satisfaction on her face. If she were a more religious person, she would have sworn that her sister and her nana were looking down upon her. But she wasn’t religious. The dead always stayed dead. That was the problem.

She tried to flip the phone on, but the battery was completely empty. No surprise. It’d probably been sitting untouched since Claire’s murder. Maya turned the phone over and checked the charging socket. It looked somewhat familiar. She’d be able to find a cord and charge it later.

“What are you doing here?”

The voice startled her. Instinctively she rolled away from it and came up prepared to defend herself.

“For chrissake, Eddie.”

Eddie’s face was red. “I said-”

“I heard you. Give me a second to catch my breath.”

So much for clarity and focus, Maya thought. She had been so lost in the brilliance of her discovery that Eddie had been able to enter and sneak up on her without her noticing.

Another mistake.

“I asked you what you-”

“I was going through her boxes,” Maya said.

Eddie took a step that had a little too much sway in it. “I told you to stay away.”

“So you did.”

Eddie wore the same red flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up to reveal his ropey forearm muscles. He was wiry and tight like a welterweight boxer. Claire had liked that about him, his build. His eyes had the red of drink.

He stuck out his hand, palm up.

“I want your key. Now.”

“I don’t think so, Eddie.”

“I can change the locks.”

“You can barely change your clothes.”

He looked down at the picture frames and linens strewn on the floor. “What are you doing in that trunk?”

Maya didn’t reply.

“I saw you take something. Give it back.”

“No.”

He eyed her now, his hands forming fists. “I can just take it-”

“No, you can’t. Was she having an affair, Eddie?”

That stopped him. His mouth dropped open. Then he said, “Go to hell.”

“Did you know about it?”

The welling in Eddie’s eyes started up again, and for a moment Maya’s eyes found that wedding picture, found Eddie’s happy, hopeful face. So maybe it wasn’t just the drink that was causing the red. Eddie saw it too, the same photograph, and something in him gave. He collapsed onto the couch. His face fell into his hands.

“Eddie?”

His voice was barely audible. “Who was it?”

“I don’t know. Eileen said Claire was getting secret calls. I just found a phone she hid in this trunk.”

He kept his face in his hands. “I don’t believe it,” he said in a voice that had nothing behind it.

“What happened, Eddie?”

“Nothing.” He looked up. “I mean, we weren’t at our best. But that’s marriage. There are cycles. You know all about that, right?”

“We aren’t talking about me.”

Eddie shook his head and lowered it again. “Maybe, maybe not.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Claire worked,” he said, too slowly, “for your husband.”

Maya didn’t like the cadence in his voice. “So?”

“So her excuse, when I asked, was that she was working late.”

He met her eyes now. She met his. Maya was not one for talking in circles.