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“Well done. Next clue?” Sophie checked both ways before crossing the street.
“An indirect reference to Kyle’s favorite song, ‘In a Big Country’ by the Big Country band.”
“How retro. Guess ’80s music is back. Kyle had a kooky sense of humor.”
“Shush, you.” Tess clasped the brass key like a beacon guiding her to Kyle. She scanned building names, attempting to connect them to the song. “So many buildings everywhere, and it could be any of these.”
“You can do this. Use free association. Go.” Sophie patted her back.
A flow of words coursed through her thoughts. “Country, keys, dragons, queens, royalty, riches, Fleet Street, banks.”
“Splendid. Keep going.” Sophie cheered her and waved a hand in a signal to continue.
“The band is from Scotland.” Riffs of Scottish bagpipes echoed in her mind, and she hummed the song’s chorus under her breath. One building with striking architecture and the words MacMillan and Co. were etched across the ground floor windows. No connection. Stepping closer, she read the door sign, Royal Bank of Scotland, and broke into a grin. “This is it. Help me up these steps, Soph.”
After climbing the steps adorning the building’s façade and opening a spotless glass door, she and Sophie boarded the elevator for the bank’s entrance on the second floor.
Minutes later, an older woman dressed in a prim tweed pantsuit appeared behind the service desk. “May I help you, miss?”
“I need to access a box under the name Tess Bennett.” Her pulse accelerated.
The clerk scanned her American passport, picked up a written visitor log, and gestured for her to sign it. “Your box is B-313. You have the key?”
Tess extracted the brass key and presented it in her sweaty palm. Red indentations outlining its shape remained visible on her skin.
“Follow me.” The woman swiped a card key reader to unlock the connecting door and traversed a long hallway before arriving in front of a vast metal vault.
With Sophie looking over her shoulder, Tess waited while the clerk entered a ten-digit code on a digital keypad, and a green light beeped. The air-sealed vault door opened with a sucking sound, revealing walls lined with identical metal boxes stretching from waist height to the ceiling.
“I’ll unlock the outer box and place the container in a private viewing room outside the vault.” The clerk gestured at a tiny, windowless room and placed the container on a small table. “Here you go.”
Excitement and dread simmered in Tess’s stomach. Body tense, she held her breath and inserted the key into the polished metal lock. It was a perfect fit. Rotating the key one turn popped the lid open a crack, allowing her to peek inside. The sole contents were an envelope addressed with her name and a transparent plastic case.
Her heart thudded against her rib cage while the room shrank around her. The viewing room was smaller than the barn stall where she’d been imprisoned, making her anxious. She opened her coat and fanned it for more air before turning to Sophie. “I can’t do it. I need to get out of this tiny room.”
“Since when did you become claustrophobic?” Sophie squinted and tilted her head to one side.
“Last week—not keen on confined spaces right now.” Surprised the drab, innocuous room could inspire such panic, she wiped her damp forehead and slid the envelope into her coat.
Sophie relocked the empty box and hit the call button to summon the clerk. “All these puzzles led to one envelope. Do you think Kyle is hiding something illegal?” she asked as they hurried toward the bank’s exit and headed back to the street.
“No way. Kyle’s squeaky clean, and breaking the law is against his nature.” Between jet lag, fatigue, and pain, Tess’s reserves had run out, and she needed to recharge before facing Kyle’s last message. “Let’s taxi back to the hotel.” She bit her lip, growing more uneasy about what the message’s contents would reveal.
After arriving in Westminster and getting settled at the hotel, Tess set Kyle’s envelope on the polished walnut coffee table. Immobilized, she sat staring at it like a ticking bomb.
“Are you going to open it or what?” Sophie paced beside her, waiting.
“Kyle feels alive now, and after I read this, he’ll be dead again. No more letters from him, ever.” Any satisfaction she’d won from solving the puzzle vanished and gave way to dread.
“I get it. You need privacy, so I’ll hang in the lobby. Text me if you need me.” Sophie picked up the room card key and slipped out.
“Thanks.” Distracted, Tess murmured without looking up. With her pocketknife, she slit open the envelope inch by inch to avoid ripping it. She prayed for closure and held the letter with her fingertips.
Dear Tessa,
My life is in danger, and I might be killed.
Last week, an emerging terror cell from Belarus called Malinavy Molat—Crimson Hammer—approached me and demanded the encryption code I wrote at Kingsley, but I refused. The group threatened to kill you this week if I didn’t hand over my code or if I called the police. They’re tracking my location and phone calls, and I can’t disappear without endangering you. Don’t trust anyone at Kingsley Tech. Crimson Hammer could blackmail our employees.
