The Trust

Chapter 38: The Sighting

"Oh my God, that was heavy."

Julie had just finished reading the letter. I grasped her hand and let the tears I was holding back spill. I thought that our uncle Jack was in our corner, but the letter proved it. He must have written it the night he died. I refused to believe the worst, even after hearing the letter. They were still calling it an accidental death, so that's what I believed. He must have had a sense that his time was running out and he wanted us to know some things; important things that could help us take Rob down.

But what was all that stuff about the mirrors?

"How do you feel about Dad after hearing that?" Julie got up to get a bottle of wine from my wine rack and poured us both a glass.

"Better. It helps, knowing a bit more about what Dad was dealing with."

"I'm a sensitive person myself. I know how hard it is to filter out the world's problems," Julie said. "I can't imagine getting addicted to something so bad I'd chose that over my children."

"I know." Jack's letter gave us a lot to think about. There was something he wanted us to know, without coming right out and telling us. Something about our great-grandmother. And the mirrors.

"What's going on?" My mother entered the kitchen. 

"Nothing," Julie and I said at the same time. 

"What are you doing tonight?" The question was directed towards me. I knew the question that was coming. Julie wisely ducked out of the kitchen. I scrambled to find some kind of excuse, but where would I be going on an ordinary Wednesday night in February?

Mom takes my hesitation as consent. "Come on, let's go to the casino," she says.

That's the last place I want to go, but my mother is hooked. It's the only thing she wants to do anymore, especially since the bombshell dropped that the big windfall is no longer coming. I grab my coat.

"Let's go. But only for an hour."

She whoops like a teenager and gets her coat and purse. It's going to be a long night.

I think about the letter all the way to the casino. What was it about the mirrors? What was Jack trying to tell us?

Our family's ancestors were Scottish and the family was plenty superstitious. But Jack seemed to know this was the last time he'd be able to talk to us; he put clues in that letter to Rob's whereabouts, I just knew it. 

Mom was quiet on the ride into the city. She didn't want to talk about the money. After all the fuss she made and her complete personality change from sweet, generous Mom to entitled Kardashian, I could understand why.

My mother was my biggest cheerleader, the one who went after everyone who ever bullied my sister and me, who stomped down to the high school in a blizzard to protest when I got a B instead of an A in Economics because of misogynistic bullshit the teacher pulled on me. She was always in our corner. But I've never heard the woman say 'I'm sorry.' And I didn't expect to, ever. That's just the way it was. 

"Here we are," I say, and we get out of the car. My mom's so happy, she's practically skipping. I remember 15 years ago when the casino first opened, I asked if she wanted to go and check it out. She shut me down in two seconds flat. "That's the devil's playground," she sniffed. In the years since, she's certainly changed her tune.

We descend the escalator to the same sights and sounds. Machines beeping, whirring and blasting multicoloured lights designed to draw in the next sucker. 

Mom ditches me as always, so I make my way to the bar. "A lemonade please, Joe."

"Haven't seen you here in a while," the bartender says.

"Yeah, we've been a bit...distracted," I say, looking for my mother, but she's disappeared into the crowd. He serves me the drink, topped with three cherries just like I like. Drinks are free, but I tip him a toonie just the same. He accepts gratefully.

"What's all this I hear about the fuss going on in Grey's Harbour? Your uncle Rob to blame for all the chaos?" Joe leans on the counter. I don't blame him for being curious and I don't have the spoons to lie.

"Yep," I say, drinking my lemonade.

"Terrible thing," he says. "Likes a game of cards now and then, doesn't he?" Joe stares at me until I finally understand.

"Does he?" I look around wildly.

"Indeed he does," he says, swiping the toonie off the bar and going to take a young couple's order. 

I take my drink and wander. Mom is probably over with the penny machines, so I make my way over to the card tables. I scan the players and nothing. Except...

A man sitting in the far corner catches my eye. His ballcap is pulled down low, but his ruddy face and blue eyes are unmistakeable. I head in his direction. He folds, throwing his cards to the table and excuses himself. Pulling his hat lower, he starts walking fast in the direction of the exit. 

I put my drink down and am sprinting now, convinced that I am indeed seeing what I'm seeing. By the time I get to the front doors, it's too late. Ballcap guy is gone.

I'd bet my life that I just saw Uncle Rob.