Page 57 of Being Lost

Patsy tilts her head to one side. “You’re making me try to remember things that happened to me in another life. Yes. The police questioned Phil who’d confirmed Alder had been with him. I knew Jenny wasn’t happy in her marriage, and she could have known too much. It might have been convenient for Alder to get rid of her, but I don’t know if he knew she was planning to leave. It’s just as likely it was an accident, or that she killed herself. The police ruled it an accidental death while under the influence of alcohol.”

I consider that for a moment. Whether Alder had a hand in the death of his wife is probably a moot point twenty years on, not able to be proven. But Patsy said she might have known too much, which begs another question.

“Did you know stuff? Did Phil talk in front of you?” I’m wondering what she could hold in her head.

She gives a negative shrug. “Phil was careful never to share anything with me. Any phone calls he made were from his home office so I couldn’t overhear anything. It was why I was so shocked when it all came to light. I’d seen changes in his behaviour, he’d become more secretive, sharper, but I never knew what he was doing.” Tapping her fingers to her lips, she adds, “But Jenny used to tell me things about Alder when we got a moment by ourselves, which wasn’t often, only when we escaped to the bathroom when we were all out together. It was usually to distract me talking about her bruises.”

We could be getting somewhere. “What things?” I probe.

She chuckles. “One that made us both laugh. That Alder had this idea of building a tunnel. Complete fantasy of course.”

What?“A tunnel for what? And where from and to?”

“She’d just overheard him refer to it. She knew no more. Not where it was, or what it was for.”

“Was he actually building it?”

Now she sucks her bottom lip into her mouth, her brow furrowed. “I think Jenny said he was trying to get the money together. Back then, he was small fry. He didn’t even live in a fancy house, so the idea of him coming up with the cash for a large project like that was a joke.”

“Did Jenny know how he was earning his money?” I prompt.

“She suspected he was into drugs. Not using but dealing. I was more worried he’d involve Phil, but when I tried to ask him about it, all Phil said was he was giving him a hand with his accounts.”

I sit back. How much does Alder know about his dead wife’s conversations with his sister-in-law? If he knows anything at all, it’s probably too much. A muscle ticks in my jaw as I realise I need to speak to Token about the plans that were found. Was it too off the mark to wonder whether they were for a tunnel? One which ended up being built? One which Alder wouldn’t want to be found?

If I add in that Alder’s found a way to get drugs undetected over the border, it’s not too far off course and wouldn’t be the first time the Border Security has been circumvented in that way. It could also be how Alder has managed to stay hidden with a ready-made escape route out of the States.

The border between the United States and Mexico is treated as a challenge by smugglers who always seem to find ways around, under or over it. Tunnels certainly aren’t unheard of. Could, in the intervening years, Alder had gotten such a structure constructed? They don’t just happen overnight. First, they have to be dug out and the logistics of removing earth, sand and rock isn’t simple. Then they need to be shored up and have some kind of ventilation and lighting. To remain undetected for long, they can’t simply start and end a few yards either side of the border. They have to be long, with the entrance and exit both hidden.

“Did you ever mention Alder’s tunnelling plans to anyone?” I finally ask.

“No. It had only been a casual conversation in the bathroom. I didn’t even think they were concrete plans. I’m certain Alder wouldn’t be aware Jenny had even mentioned it. I didn’t tell Phil. As soon as Phil left, I put him and Alder’s illegal activities right out of my head—I had my children to focus on. Jenny was dead by then,Lost. I didn’t know if Alder’s plans were anything more than a pipe dream in his head.”

Chapter Nineteen

Patsy

Ilistened to Lost and heard how he’d taken things on his shoulders that he should never have done. In the half-century that I have lived, there’s been rapid change. Even to me, a technologically challenged person, I’ve noticed the pace of technological developments. Lost wasn’t the first or last person to be burned. Nowadays the market seems dominated by just a few platforms, many others were probably lost along the way. He’d done well, was successful for a time, but then, as so many others, couldn’t compete with the big boys.

Rather than be concerned he’d gone the wrong way, I had been impressed that none of his regret was for his personal loss. No, Lost’s concerns were all for his staff who’d lost their jobs, and for that bitch of a wife. He’d given her everything he had, kept nothing for himself. I had my own suspicions of how low he’d sunk that day he’d met Snake. I might not know Kim, his ex, but already, I hate her.

Every word Lost said that he thought reflected badly on himself, just showed me what a good man he was. Caring, not for his own comfort, but for others. Instead of pushing me away, it gave me confidence that he’d move heaven and earth to keep me safe. The only risk was he wouldn’t look out for himself.

I’ve no doubt that’s why he was voted in as president of the club. Everything he’d do would be for the good of his men. Every decision he’d take would be well considered and thought out. I’ve seen how the men look up to him and now understand why, even if Lost can’t see it himself.

If Phil had been like Lost, I’d have followed him through fire, never giving up on the man I married and professed to love. But unlike Lost, Phil’s driving force had been personal greed. The two men couldn’t be more different.

Even if Phil had been an upright citizen when we’d broken up, I still wouldn’t have stripped him of everything he owned. Even when she’d left him, Lost had given Kim every penny and lost himself while doing so.

Lost is a man who doesn’t know his own worth, who’s let his prior experiences rule the rest of his life. What happened has shaped him, made him cautious, made him always think twice. That doesn’t make him weak, it makes him a man you can trust.

He’s now quiet, working through in his head what I’d told him about Alder and the strange information given to me by Alder’s wife. Something I said had resonated.

“What are you thinking, Lost?”

He gives me a shuttered look. I find it annoying. It’s the same look I’ve seen on Demon’s face back in Colorado.

“If you’re going to tell me it’s club business, well, don’t. My daughter’s partner is a member of your club, and I’ve been around bikers and heard the term. Sure there are things you can keep to yourself, but not when it concerns me and my life.” I take a deep breath. “You asked if I was going to stay around and explore what’s between us, but I can’t if you treat me like the little woman who needs to be protected. I need to be part of the decision-making process, and for that I need to know what’s going on. Not,” I add fast, seeing the expression coming onto his face, “that I don’t trust you, but because it’s not the way I tick.”

---