Buried Secrets Kristi Belcamino (uplifting novels .txt) 📖

“I need to call now!” Her voice was sharp.

He was instantly contrite. “Do what you need to do. I know this must be tough for you.”

Tears formed in the corners of Dallas’s eyes. She couldn’t speak, but just nodded.

Suddenly Dallas felt stupid. No, she’d never called the number. She’d been afraid to do so. Her voice softened.

“I’m sorry for snapping. I’m just afraid if I don’t do it now, I won’t do it. I’ve been sitting on this paper for weeks. For some reason, I’m terrified to call the number. I’m afraid of what the person on the other end is going to tell me.”

Picking up her phone he said, “If you need me to, I’ll call.”

She smiled. “I need to do it myself.”

Taking the phone gently from his hand, she took a deep breath.

“Well, hell, here goes nothing,” she said and punched in the number.

Colton watched her carefully.

“Hello?” Dallas said. “I’m so sorry to call this late, or this early. I just need to talk to you desperately. My name is Dallas Jones. My mother was Karen Jones. I found this number in her safety deposit box after she passed.”

Dallas’s voice was trembling.

The voice on the other end was soft. “Dallas? I have something for you. Your mother wanted me to keep it safe for you. I was wondering when you were going to call.”

The woman lived in a northwestern suburb of Phoenix along the White Tank Mountain Range. Dallas had taken the earliest flight into Phoenix she could and rented a four-door Jeep Wrangler.

Colton had offered to come with her, but she told him she needed to do it on her own.

Pulling into the woman’s gated community was like entering an oasis. Palm trees and green golf courses and small lakes everywhere.

Dallas gave a low whistle. “Wouldn’t mind living here one day.”

She dodged seniors zipping around in golf carts until she pulled down the road where the woman lived.

Parked out front of the house, Dallas found she was paralyzed. Her hand was frozen on the door handle and it wasn’t budging. Get it together!

For a second she was tempted to turn the key in the ignition and just leave. She didn’t need to know what her mother had left for her. She’d gone this long without knowing.

Before she could act, the door of the small bungalow was thrown open and a woman with a short blonde bob stood there smiling. And waving.

Dallas found herself smiling back. And opening the car door.

By the time she reached the door, all her anxiety had fled in the face of this beaming woman.

“I’m Lisa.” The woman grasped both of Dallas’s hands and then leaned back examining her. “You are the spitting image of your mother. She was such a wonderful, beautiful woman. I miss her so.”

Dallas fought back tears. The woman had bright hazel eyes and smile lines.

With a jolt, Dallas realized that her mother would be about this age if she’d lived. A senior citizen.

“Please come in,” Lisa said, backing up and holding the door open.

Inside, Lisa offered Dallas coffee and led her to a small walled patio in the back.

The bricked patio was shaded by palm trees and a small fountain gurgled in one corner.

They sat at a wrought iron table and sipped coffee for a few seconds before Lisa spoke.

“I’m not sure exactly what it is I’m about to give you.”

“What?” Dallas was confused.

“Your mother came to visit me about a year before she died,” Lisa set her cup down and focused her gaze directly on Dallas, who found herself leaning forward to hear more. “She had a tote bag. She came straight in and made a drink. She downed it and made another. I’d never seen her do this before. Finally, she sat down. Her cheeks were flushed and her hands were shaking. I was really worried at this point.”

Dallas was starting to worry just hearing it and soon was lost in Lisa’s story.

Karen confessed to her friend that she’d been secretly taking night classes in archeology online. She was going to surprise Dallas’s father when she received her degree with a trip to Egypt.

But then something odd happened. Her professor was an elderly Egyptian archeologist who took a liking to Karen. Not only did she remind him of his daughter, but she was one of the best students he’d ever had. Her passion for the subject of Cleopatra matched his.

When the name “Cleopatra” came out of Lisa’s mouth, Dallas gasped.

But Lisa ignored it and went on with her tale.

The professor and Dallas’s mother spent time talking outside of class, discussing theories on where Cleopatra’s tomb was located. The professor always acted slightly secretive about it and told Karen he had more to share about that subject. Then, one day quite suddenly, the professor grew gravely ill.

“What was his name?” Dallas interrupted.

Lisa took a sip of her coffee before answering. “I’m sorry. Your mother never said.”

“Okay.”

“Well, he died unexpectedly and your mother said she was slightly heartbroken. She’d looked to him as a mentor and father figure,” Lisa said. “It derailed her studies. She told herself she was only taking a break but she’d lost heart for it without her mentor around. She tried to reach out to the man’s family through the school but found that he was a widow without family.”

“Poor mother,” Dallas said.

Lisa sighed. “Yes. She always cared so deeply about others.”

Dallas waited knowing there was more and wondering if she could stand the anticipation.

“A few days after his death, your mother received a package in the mail.”

“From the professor.”

“Yes.”

“It contained something very dangerous, your mother said, along with a note saying that he’d sent it her way reluctantly and only because he was absolutely desperate. He said if she received the package it was because he was dead and he apologized saying he was worried that the same thing would happen to her—she would be putting her own life in danger to even possess it. He needed her to hide it, he