SORRY CAN'T SAVE YOU: A Mystery Novel

by Willow Rose

  “You mean she’s lying?” he asks and takes a bite of the crunchy bacon.

  As usual, Grande is only having coffee. She sips it and looks at him with a smile. Even she is growing on him. There’s something to the glint in her eye that makes him want to get to know her better.

  “That’s exactly what I mean,” she says. “I mean this story, isn’t it a little too…much? All this housewife-turned-detective routine?”

  “But why would she lie to us?” he asks, then sips more coffee.

  “Because she killed both of them?”

  That makes Jonathan laugh. “Up to now, we don’t even know if a crime has been committed in that cabin.”

  She tilts her head. “Really? The body they found downstream in the river; that’s the same man as in the picture on her phone…”

  “Frank.”

  “Yes, Frank. He was found with several gunshot wounds. And you don’t believe there’s been a crime?”

  “It could be self-inflicted. It could be suicide.”

  “You don’t believe that.”

  “Okay, maybe not. But there are other circumstances that would explain this better than murder. Let’s just wait and hear her entire story before we make any conclusions. I can’t wait to hear where she’s going with it.”

  “There’s something else,” Grande says.

  Jonathan places his cup on the counter again, then shakes his head when Joanne is on her way to refill it. They’re running late and should be going. Jonathan hopes to get the rest of Laurie’s testimony today. Hopefully, they can wrap this investigation up soon. Not that he is in any hurry to get away from this town. He will miss it once he leaves. And he’ll miss Joanne’s dimples when she smiles.

  He leaves a bill, enough to make sure there’s a huge tip for Joanne included, then winks at her, grabs his jacket, and puts it on.

  “Why doesn’t that surprise me?” he says and walks outside into the cool wind. He loves the way it nibbles at his skin. He turns to face Grande as she follows him, putting on her raincoat.

  “She’s pregnant. I talked to the doctor yesterday after we were done, and he said the child is fine, despite the stress her body has been through.”

  Jonathan widens his eyes and nods. He puts on his hoodie as the drizzle hits his head. The clouds are hanging heavily on the mountaintops, and it’ll be raining again in a short while.

  “Let’s see what Laurie can tell us about that.”

  “So, who’s the father?”

  Grande goes straight for it as soon as they enter. They have barely said good morning before Grande asks. A little too aggressive if you ask Jonathan. He would probably have chosen a slightly calmer approach, one that would make Laurie comfortable enough to talk about it. But that isn’t Grande’s style.

  “The father of your child, the child you’re carrying?” she continues. She’s tapping her pen on the notepad.

  Laurie gives them a sad expression.

  “You knew, didn’t you?” Grande asks and takes out her chair, then sits down. Jonathan opens the app and starts recording again. He sits down as well.

  Grande continues, “Was that why you went to the cabin with him? Because it was Frank’s?”

  “We’re getting ahead of ourselves here,” Laurie says. “Let me rewind a little first.”

  Part IV

  Chapter 44

  My dad returns from the hospital, and my mom takes care of him. I visit almost every day, and my dad slowly grows stronger. Meanwhile, I am a mess, and it gets worse every day. I don’t pick up my phone; I stay inside the condo, doors locked, and only leave when I absolutely have to, like to take Damian to school. Isabella is done with her physical therapy and is going to return to her school next week. I am thrilled about that, even though I’m very anxious too. This means I can’t keep an eye on her twenty-four-seven like I have since she was shot. I can’t hinder her dad from coming to the school and trying to talk to her. I can tell the front office that there’s a restraining order out on him, but he could find a way if I know him. The police have told me they spoke to him about the night my parents were attacked, and according to them, he had an alibi. I’m not sure I buy it, though, since it’s probably Chip or one of his other war buddies who are covering for him.

  Isabella still uses the crutches to ease her walking, but she will soon be able to walk without them, her doctor promised me. She just needs to build up her muscles and keep doing the exercises she has learned. She is all caught up on her schoolwork. So, she should be able to get back with no issues. I just need to get used to the thought of letting her go out on her own again. I have been obsessively protective of her since it happened. I find it natural, but she isn’t too fond of it. She keeps telling me to back off and let her live her life. She’s probably right, but I am just so terrified she’ll get hurt again. It’s harder than you think to let go of something like this.

  I barely sleep at night. I wake up so many times, it’s ridiculous. I sleep with my gun next to me, ready to grab it should something happen. I am terrified of what he might do next. Getting to my parents was a clear signal to me. He can get to me anywhere, and he will. So, I have done what he told me to. I have backed off. I can’t fight anymore; I can’t risk the people I love anymore. I am no longer trying to warn people, nor am I writing articles or even talking to the police. I simply don’t dare.

  During the day, I stare at the picture of him on my screen saver, and I am reminded of the warmth he filled me with when we were still together before everything went down the drain. I thought I knew him so well. He was my second half, my better me. I hated being apart. But now I realize I was a fool. It’s so obvious he’s a killer when you look into his eyes. Even his smile makes me shiver now. He has the smile of a killer, I tell myself. And when I look at him, my stomach crumbles into a hard ball, and my heart rate skyrockets. He’s so dashingly handsome, so calm and patient. He can be the sweetest man, so trusting and innocent, but underneath all that, he’s really a predator, a vicious killer, a true psychopath. He has been fooling me for all these years, and I feel so stupid for not seeing it earlier. It’s so obvious. I see him clearly now.

  I just can’t stand the thought that he’s going to get away with it.

  I am so caught up in my fear; I realize too late that I haven’t had my period. When I finally buy the test and take it, I am already three months pregnant. I take it in my own restroom and just sit there and stare at it, completely out of it.

  What am I going to do?

  I call Vera, and she comes over. She brings Publix’s sandwiches, my favorites with pastrami and extra mayo, and we eat lunch together when I tell her.

  “I’m pregnant,” I say, just blurting it out, hoping she won’t resent me or judge me for not being careful enough. I need a friend now—more than ever.

  She stops chewing and stares at me. She’s in uniform since she’s just on her lunch break and has to go back to base soon.

  Her head tilts forward, and she looks at me, her eyebrows lifted. “Excuse me? Did I just hear you say that you were…pregnant?”

  I nod. I don’t like the word. I’m thirty-six. I hadn’t expected to have more children. This wasn’t the plan. The plan was two children—a boy and a girl. We got the girl first, but that didn’t matter much. Just one of each and that was it. But then again, there was a lot about my plans that had been modified lately.

  “So…?” she asks, waiting for me to say something. I don’t know what to say, to be honest.

  I shrug. “I don’t know.”

  “But…”

  “I don’t know,” I say. I bite my lip. “Don’t judge me.”

  She throws out her hands. “Hey, no one is judging here. I just…well, it would be great to know if it was my brother’s or…”

  I give her a look, and she stops talking. This is exactly my dilemma. I have just started seeing Frank. To be honest, I was just seeking comfort with him; at least I think that’s what I have been doing. I’m not quite in a state w
here I can fall in love right now. I like him; I do. But do I love him? It’s hard to tell. I am technically still married, and the way things are, it might have to stay that way for a while. I have asked for a divorce, and my lawyer has sent over the papers to Ryan, but he refuses to sign.

  “I take it you don’t know,” she says. “Is there a possibility it could also be…Ryan’s?”

  I nod, then sip my Coke. I shouldn’t be drinking this stuff, I think to myself. I have to start thinking about the baby from now on.

  “It could also be his,” I say.

  “Oh, my word,” Vera says, taking another bite of her sandwich. She chews pensively. “If it is my brother’s, he’ll live up to his responsibilities; you can be certain of that.”

  “And if it isn’t his?” I ask. “Am I about to have another child with a murderer?”

  Vera stops chewing again and looks at me. “Shoot. That is bad news.”

  “I need to find out somehow whose it is. I don’t know what I’ll do if it’s Ryan’s.”

  “Maybe never tell him?”

  I look up. “Not quite fair to him or the child. Besides, he’ll see it next time he sees me, and he’ll start asking questions. If I say it’s Frank’s, I’ll be putting his life in danger.”

  Vera shrugs. “True. That is quite a dilemma.”

  “I’m gonna try to get a DNA test,” I say and drink more Coke. Last sip, I promise myself. Just like I tell myself I’ll see a doctor about this pregnancy soon. I just keep postponing it, just like I kept postponing taking the test because I simply can’t face this dilemma. I can’t have another child with this man.

  I don’t dare to.

  Chapter 45

  I ask Vera to help me get a DNA sample from Frank. I want to try him first, but I can’t ask him; I don’t want him to be suspicious or even to get his hopes up. We always hang out at my place since he doesn’t like me to come to his. He’s embarrassed about how small it is, he usually says. He’ll be suspicious if I ask to see it, and if I start to poke around looking for hairs on a comb or something like that, I’ll only get caught. I don’t do sneaking around. It’s just not me. I wasn’t even able to lie to my parents as a child. I tried once and told them I was going to my best friend Shawna Wyndham’s house when I was actually going to a party at Mike Stargill’s house. They bought it, but I couldn’t stand it, and seconds later, I ran into the living room and told them the truth. I am not good at this stuff, I realized then.

  Vera promises me she will get some hair from him somehow, and about a week later, she texts me and tells me to meet her. She’s got news, the text says. Then she adds to meet her at the Causeway. I wonder why she has chosen that out of the way place…if she is afraid to be seen with me, then shake the thought. I send the kids off to school, then shower and get myself ready. I feel good today, and for the first time in days, I don’t feel nauseous. I look at my naked body in the mirror as I come out of the shower, then feel my bulging stomach. It’s still so little that I am the only one who can see it. I never showed much till I was late in my pregnancies, and with Damian, I didn’t show until I was seven months pregnant. I know I am not going to be able to hide it forever, but I still have a little time.

  I drive past the base on my way there. I feel my heart rate go up as I drive past the entrance, thinking about Ryan and fearing he might see me or know I am here, then tell myself I am silly for being so paranoid.

  I drive onto the bridge, going toward the mainland, then take the exit halfway. There’s an old bridge there that is closed off now, and a part of it is used today for fishing. There’s a small parking area underneath it, where I go. I drive down the narrow gravel road, bumping along, dust whirling in the air around me. I stop by the riverside and put the minivan in park. Vera isn’t there yet.

  I wait for about ten minutes, then text her, asking where she is.

  I AM HERE. WAITING.

  She doesn’t answer. It annoys me. I hate to wait. There’s no one fishing on the bridge today. I get out of the car and walk down to the water. It’s a quiet day, and the Intracoastal water is barely moving. I see boats as they rush by, and birds are chirping from the mangroves. I see a row of about ten pelicans as they float above me, then take turns diving into the water, catching fish. It’s one of those gorgeous Florida spring days that I used to enjoy so much. But now, it just reminds me of the many times Ryan took us fishing on his days off, of how he used to help the kids and teach them everything about fishing and even how to gut the fish afterward and grill them for dinner. I still have the picture of Damian with the huge grouper he once caught that was almost bigger than himself. It’s on the shelf in his room.

  I check my phone again to see if Vera has texted me back. She hasn’t. It’s been almost twenty minutes now. I don’t have time for this. I walk back to the minivan, and my hand is on the handle when I see a truck drive up on the old bridge above me. I wonder for a second if it is someone who is coming there to fish, then I am about to open the door when suddenly I pause. The truck stops on top of the bridge, and someone gets out. He’s wearing a baseball cap. I can’t see his face. He walks to the passenger side, then pulls someone else out. It’s the short blonde hair on that person who is being dragged toward the edge of the bridge that makes my heart stop.

  Vera?

  She’s fighting the person holding her, but he’s too strong for her. I stare at them, completely frozen, paralyzed.

  What’s going on? What’s this guy doing to Vera?

  It all goes by so fast; I can barely react. It all becomes a little blurry. I remember seeing a gun, a gun in the man’s hand. At least I think it is from the way he’s holding it. I remember Vera screaming, and I see her struggling to free herself from his grip. Then, I see the gun being placed forcefully in her hand, then steered toward her temple. He’s the one holding her arm, controlling it.

  I don’t even have time to scream before the gun is fired. Next, I see her body fall from the bridge toward the water. There are two splashes, one when the body hits the water, and one when the gun does.

  I stare at the water where Vera has disappeared. My breath becomes shorter and shorter until I am not breathing at all anymore. I think I’m shaking, but I’m not sure. I don’t know if I’m even blinking. It’s like everything has completely stopped. I see the guy get back into his truck and leave; I see the truck drive away, but I don’t do anything.

  Am I terrified? Possibly. Am I in deep shock? Very possible.

  It’s not until the truck has completely disappeared that I finally dare to move. I fumble with my phone between my hands, then call nine-one-one. Somehow, I manage to tell the woman at dispatch that a body was just plunged into the water and give her directions. As soon as I have hung up, I throw the phone on the ground, then take off my flip-flops before I walk into the water.

  I have always been a good swimmer, and it comes in handy now. Luckily, there isn’t any wind today, so there are no waves in the river. I push myself hard and realize I am far from the shape I thought I was in. My arms are hurting, and I am panting both with fear and effort. I can’t stop thinking about poor Vera, and every time I do, I start to cry, but I can’t let myself do that because I am losing momentum when I lose hope. I have to keep swimming if I am to find her; I can’t let despair get the better of me now. I simply can’t.

  I spot something in the water as I swim close to where I saw her being pushed in. But as I come closer, I can no longer see it. Frustrated, I call out her name like she can answer. I keep swimming, and suddenly, I see her. She’s lying on the surface, face down. There is blood in the water around her.

  “Oh, God, Vera,” I pant, then swim to her and grab her. “Please, Vera, please.”

  I pull her around, then see how badly her face is messed up. There is no way she’s still alive. My body starts to shake violently as I realize this, and soon, I break down and cry. I can’t stand it anymore; I have to let it out, even though I am swallowing lots of water. I hear sirens approaching in
the distance, and soon, I can hear voices yelling as divers are sent in after us.

  Chapter 46

  They take me up on the bridge after taking Vera away in a body bag. They have wrapped me in a blanket and given me a juice box, so I don’t dehydrate. I feel like a child as I hold it in my hand. I cry helplessly. I can’t control it anymore, and I don’t know what to do. Vera is—was—my best friend. Gosh, it hurts even to think it. She was the only one I could trust, besides her brother Frank. I can’t believe she’s not here anymore. It’s too surreal.

  “So, this is where you saw her?” the detective asks and points. I stare at him, then at the spot. There’s blood on the asphalt and the railing. I nod, closing my eyes, trying not to relive it again. I focus on surviving right now, nothing else. I just have to get through this, get through this moment, awful as it is.

  If you can get through this, you can get through anything.

  “And you say there was someone here with her?”

  I nod again. “He forced the gun to her head, then fired it. He pushed her over the edge, and she dropped into the water…I think he wanted to make it look like suicide. That’s why he put it in her hand first.”

  “And why would he do that?”

  “Because she’s military, and well…suicide is pretty common…it’s what he does,” I say. I can tell by the detective’s face that he doesn’t quite understand what I’m saying. He’s from the mainland police. He doesn’t know anything about the previous murders or about the restraining order, or anything else for that matter. I can’t explain it to him. I know he won’t listen. I know he’ll give me that look that will make me feel like Lunatic Laurie. Besides, I fear this was all Ryan’s doing. He wanted me to see it. He wants me to know that he can do whatever he wants, that he’ll come for me next if I don’t shut up. He’s sending me a message, telling me he’s serious. He couldn’t get my parents, so he found someone else that was close to me. He knew exactly how to hurt me the most and the deepest.