Several pieces of Jenny’s jewelry are scattered carelessly across the top of a delicate antique desk. These pieces are exquisite, and I’m mentally removing the stones from the settings while calculating the price each would fetch.
But that’s not why I’m here, so I force myself to walk away from them.
I open drawers and rummage through every part of the room. It’s big enough that there’s a sitting area tucked in a corner near the door that leads to the bathroom. Inching into that space, I stay perfectly quiet while I listen to Jenny sing off-key in the tub.
The framed family portrait of the Kingstons hanging on the wall depicts a perfect little trio that doesn’t reflect what life is really like in this house. I’m sure Jenny shared this picture on social media to make everyone believe things are as rosy as that image suggests. I tug on the corner of the frame, just like I’ve done to every other piece of wall art in the house, and stop myself from celebrating when it swings open, revealing a small safe set into the wall. I pull on the handle but it’s firmly locked in place.
Staring at the ten-number keypad, I start to sweat. There are a lot of things I can do, but cracking safes is not one of them. I pull out the phone that Matt gave me for emergencies only.
This is an emergency.
Luckily, he answers on the first ring.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” I whisper. “I found a safe. It’s got a keypad and I don’t have a lot of time. What do I do?”
“Take a pic and send it to me.”
I do as he asks and then wait for him to get it.
“It’s simple. Doesn’t look like it’s hooked up to a system. Try a four-digit number and see what it does.”
I punch in 2580 because I read once that is the most common passcode since it is the only four-digit vertical combo.
“One beep and the little light flashed red once.”
Matt is quiet on the other line for a few seconds then says, “Try the kid’s birthday.”
I read all the important dates from the packet they gave me before I started and have no problem retrieving the exact number from memory. I press in 1017. October 17.
“One beep and two red lights.”
“Shit,” Matt spits out from the other line. “I bet this is a ‘three times wrong, you’re locked out for good’ system. It probably resets after a certain amount of time. Maybe twenty-four hours. Stay put and try again tomorrow.”
And the line goes dead.
I deflate. I need out of this house. Splashing from the bathroom makes me freeze, then I hear Jenny singing that same stupid song she’s been singing for two days. The water turns back on, probably because she’s been in there so long it’s gotten chilly.
I stare at the keypad as my mind scrolls through the important dates and numbers from the Kingston file. Then I think about Greg. I can tell he loves Miles even though he’s not a hands-on kind of dad. He’ll text through the day asking how he’s doing and seems generally interested in talking to Miles when he gets home every night. The code isn’t his birthday, though.
Jenny lets out a loud laugh. I can only imagine what’s going on in there while she bathes alone.
Why hasn’t Greg booted her out of this house by now? He’s obviously got enough money to hire all the help he needs. He only talks to Jenny when he has to, although there are times I find him watching her with a sad expression. An expression that shows there’s still love there, even though he hates what she’s turned into. Could the code be her birthday? Their anniversary? Greg tries to hide it, but he sleeps in the guest room every night, and there is only one picture beside the bed. It’s of Greg and Jenny. They are young and all smiles, their faces squished together, cheek to cheek. Behind them, the sky is full of fireworks. There’s a good chance this picture was taken on their first date, at the Fourth of July picnic at the country club.
I stare at the keypad, hold my breath, and type in 0704. There are a few seconds where nothing happens and then the light blinks green and I hear the lock slide open.
My breath lets loose and I almost scream for joy. I did it!
I pull the door open and the only thing inside is the red flash drive with the blue cap, just like the corrupted fake in my pocket I will leave behind in its place. It will also make whatever computer he inserts the replacement into useless. While Greg will freak out and wonder what went wrong, he should be oblivious a swap was made.
As I’m making the switch, Jenny laughs again but it’s closer than before. She’s out of the bathroom and staring at me.