The Things We Don't See

by Jessi Brazzell

  We walked out hand in hand and waited for a cab the chapel had called for us. The lights from the strip somehow seemed even more beautiful as I stood next to Brian, my husband.

  When I lost Carson, I never imagined marrying again and I certainly never thought I would fall in love. Maybe it was because I couldn’t remember what love really was until Brian found his way into my heart. But there we were, standing in the middle of the Vegas strip as husband and wife.

  Chapter Fourteen

  One night in Las Vegas was enough for us. We both wanted to get home to our brand-new house that seemed much more exciting for our honeymoon destination than some hotel casino. We had shared four amazing weeks together as newlyweds. Brian let his interns handle the preparation of his cases while we spent the better part of each day between the silk sheets of Brian’s king bed, or in the shower, sometimes the living room floor...

  I was twisting on my barstool, watching Brian cooking in nothing but his perfectly fitting black silk briefs when the phone rang. The shrill ringing seemed to bounce from the wooden floor and float in the open space of the concave ceiling of the living room. We had shut ourselves off from the world for this past month, but Mila could be going into labor anytime so I bounced off the barstool and ran barefooted across the floor to snatch the phone from the charger. No sooner than I had it in my hand, someone was pounding on the front door. I shot Brian a nervous glance and he hurried down the hall to get dressed.

  The other end of the line was dead when I pulled the phone to my ear and I watched nervously as the front door bounced against the frame with the hard knocking. I tightened the silk robe around my waist and slowly walked to turn the knob. Detective Burns. She apparently had a flare for dramatics and I wasn’t amused.

  “Hello,” I said.

  Brian was at my side now and Detective Burns was soaking in the sight of us together like it was the sun on a Florida beach.

  “Please, come in,” Brian said.

  “I hope I am not interrupting,” she said, spinning in the middle of the living room to look around the house. “I like this place much better than your last.”

  I smiled at her, sure to not accept the compliment because I knew that it wasn’t sincere. “We were just getting ready for dinner.”

  I wasn’t sure how she had gotten the new address, but now that she was here, I wish I had taken more precautions to prevent it. Her stare is not exactly one that intends to offer congratulations for our recent prenuptials and my mood is not one to listen to her judgements.

  “Well, I just had to see for myself if the rumors were true,” she said.

  Brian was back in the kitchen now and she and I stood alone in the living room. I nervously looked across, hoping that Brian would be coming to the rescue, but he kept his attention on the stove, although I knew he could hear the conversation.

  “What rumors?” I asked.

  “The two of you…” she let out a hearty laugh that made my face burn with anger, “Romantically involved.”

  I was suddenly feeling even more self-conscious about my lack of clothing at six in the evening. She didn’t pay my robe much attention, but instead kept her attention focused solely on Brian in the kitchen. She always seemed so interested in him and it made me very uneasy. “Detective Burns, was there something specific that brought you here?”

  “Actually, Chloe, I was hoping to talk privately with you. Would you be able to meet me for lunch tomorrow?” she asked with a quick smile, like that was fooling anyone. “My treat.”

  I looked over to Brian again and he shrugged his shoulders lightly at me while he rinsed his spatula in the sink. I turned back and smiled, “Yeah, sure. Lunch sounds lovely.”

  “Great. Let’s meet at noon, at the boathouse.” She showed herself out without speaking to Brian.

  “Strange, right?” I said to him, sitting back down on the barstool.

  “Yeah, I guess. That woman doesn’t like me at all,” he said. I wasn’t going to agree with him out loud, but he was definitely right. We quickly forgot about her visit altogether and went back to playing honeymoon.

  *****

  For the first time in four weeks, I was leaving Brian’s side. “I won’t be long,” I said, kissing him.

  “Do you have to go? What is this even about?”

  “I am sure it’s nothing,” I assured him with one last kiss before leaving him lying in bed.

  I was relieved when there weren’t many cars at the restaurant and I hurried in to avoid delaying this undesirable lunch date. I wanted to get it over with as quickly as possible. But I stopped mid-step when I saw Detective Burns sitting with a man, the same man who had been at the police station with Brian the first time we had went for questioning. This man was a lawyer, but whose?

  “Chloe, please,” Detective Burns said.

  I sat down watching the man shuffle through his brown leather briefcase and I could instantly feel my palms starting to sweat. Something was going on and there was a reason she wanted to do this without Brian around.

  “Detective Burns, can I ask what this is about?”

  “Chloe,” she said, reaching across the table to gesture her good intentions. “I want to warn you personally about your relationship with Brian Whitmore. There are some things that I cannot prove, but are certainly alarming.”

  The man next to her laid a packet of papers in the center of the table and I looked wearily at him. His blue eyes were covered by brown framed glasses that impressively matched his briefcase almost exactly. But his eyes were dark and something about him made me believe that whatever was behind them, was just as dark.

  I resisted the curiosity of what was in the papers and looked back to the Detective Burns. “What things?”

  “Chloe, did you know that the firm was having financial issues?” the man asked.

  “What kind of financial issues?”

  “The bad kind,” Detective Burns cut in. “Look, Chloe, I need you to consider that all the evidence we have against Mila could just as easily be used against Brian.”

  My irritation just went from mild annoyance to completely pissed off. “Did you find blood in Brian’s car?” I hissed.

  “No, but this was an awful easy case to make against Mila. Doesn’t that strike you as odd? Within days, we had every piece of evidence needed to formally charge her for first degree murder. It was just too easy. Brian had access to every surface that turned up evidence, Chloe.” I shook my head, cheeks blushing red with anger from having to listen to this. “Chloe, I know you do not want to hear this. But you need to think about it. I do not have anything I can charge Brian with, but he is also a lawyer and he would know exactly what was needed for a charge to stick. I am not saying he is guilty, but I am saying you need to be careful with him.”

  “I do not need your warnings, Detective Burns. And I certainly do not appreciate them. Brian is not just my friend, he is my husband. And I know my husband. He did not do this.” I pushed the chair back about the same time her face fell with complete shock from the news of the marriage. Last night she had been intrigued that we were involved, having no idea just how involved we really were.

  “Wait, Chloe. Please,” she said. Her demeanor was desperate now, the first time I had ever seen her where she didn’t resemble an Army officer’s confidence.

  I didn’t want to hear anything she had to say, but something about the man sitting next to her drew me back in and I slowly relaxed into the chair. “Two minutes.”

  “This is a copy of an insurance policy,” the man said, his unusually small hand patting the papers that still laid in the center of the table.

  “And?”

  “Brian and Carson had just bought an insurance policy to protect them under a buy-sell agreement. Do you know what that is, Chloe?”

  “No…”

  “This insurance policy that was purchased only eleven days before Mr. Damichi’s death, protects the firm in the event of a partner death. Brian assumed full ownership of the firm,”
he explained.

  “I already know this. This means nothing.” I did know part of this anyway. Brian had told me that he took sole ownership of the firm. I didn’t know that it was a result from a very recent insurance policy, but I didn’t care. It didn’t mean he killed him.

  “Chloe, you knew that Brian and Carson signed an insurance policy less than two weeks before your husband was murdered that in turn left Brian Whitmore as sole owner of a firm that was completely paid for through this new policy? And did you know he also refused a polygraph?” Detective Burns asked. I struggled to hide the shock from my face but wasn’t quick enough. “I didn’t think so,” she said.

  I would argue Brian’s innocence till the death if that’s what needed to happen. But hearing this, all this new information, raised several suspicions that I couldn’t shake. I didn’t let them show to the detective or the lawyer as I stood from table. “Thank you for your time. I hope that your playing what ifs does not get in the way of justice for my late husband.”

  Brian was sitting in Harper’s nursery when I got home. I walked in to rest my hands on his shoulders and he pulled me down in the rocking chair with him. I didn’t want to ask him about what the detective had said because I didn’t want him to think that I would ever suspect him of murdering Carson, because I didn’t. Wanting answers to meaningless questions wasn’t important enough to risk him thinking I would ever consider him capable of murder. Being married for all but one month, I don’t think questioning trust is a good start to a happily ever after. And I did trust him.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Chloe, wake up!” I blink my eyes looking around and the sun hasn’t even risen.

  “Brian, what is wrong with you?” I asked, trying to pull the blankets over my face again.

  “Chloe, wake up now!”

  “Okay, are you okay, Brian? What is going on?”

  He didn’t answer me, but turned the volume up on the television at the end of our bed. I sat up and watched, in complete disbelief. Detective Burns. Murdered. According to the news, Detective Burns, or Francis Burns, was found shot in her vehicle at five o’clock in the morning. That was only one hour earlier.

  “Oh my God, Brian!”

  “I cannot believe this,” Brian said. His eyes were glued to the TV and his breath was shallow, like he was forgetting to breathe.

  People do not just randomly murder detectives. My mind raced knowing that I had just met wither hours before and everything was fine. And now, she was dead. “What are you doing awake so early?” I asked Brian, looking over at the alarm clock suddenly feeling sick to stomach at the eerie convenience.

  “I heard sirens and woke up,” he mumbled, turning up the volume louder on the TV to drown me out.

  Her possible last order of business was giving me a heartfelt warning about my husband. My hands started shaking and I hid them away from Brian. “I am going to get some coffee started,” I said, kissing him quickly.

  My heart beat was louder than my feet against the stairs while everything started to connect in my mind. A man called and reported the body. There was a shoe print at the scene. The roses and busted glass. Detective Burns being murdered within hours of our meeting.

  Could Brian really have made that phone call? Was that footprint really his? The first rose, Brian handed to me. And the roses after were only found when he was with me. The broken patio door, he was already standing at the door before I could even get off the couch. Detective Burns was meeting with me to tell me her theories on Brian’s guilt and he just so happened to be awake at six in the morning the day she was murdered? Could it have been Brian’s shadow I saw running passed my patio that night? Could I have been his plan all along?

  I stared at the key rack, particularly at the empty hook where Brian’s keys hang. He had left. He had left sometime while I was sleeping, and to do what?

  “Chloe, are you okay?” he asked.

  I turned slowly back to him. His face was wary with my obvious fear. My fear of him. “Where? Where did you go, Brian?”

  He stepped in closer to me and I took a step back. “Chloe,” he said, hurt from my reaction. “Chloe, I haven’t gone anywhere.”

  I turned back to the key rack and he stepped forward again. “Chloe, my keys are in the bedroom, where they have been all night. I haven’t gone anywhere. Are you asking because you actually think I could have done this?”

  His voice was raising and I watched his face. Studying it for those indications of guilt. But he didn’t have them. He was only hurt. He was hurt by my reaction, by me even considering the possibility. But it is a possibility, and it all makes sense.

  “Brian, I need you to tell me the truth. I will stand by you no matter what that truth may be. But I need you to be honest with me,” I told him, stepping forward to take his hands. “Did you have anything to do with Detective Burns being shot?”

  He pulled his hands away from me, spinning around to turn his back to me. His hands were pressed against the top of his head so hard that I could see the tips of his fingers turning white.

  “I am sorry, Brian. But what am I supposed to say when they come question us? You know they will! I was just with her talking about the case hours ago. What am I supposed to say if they ask me where you were?”

  He turned back to me then, tears in his eyes. “Chloe, you tell them the truth. And if you don’t believe that I was in that bed, holding you in my arms, then you tell them that. I do not ever want you to lie for me. But Chloe, I swear to you with my entire being, that I did NOT have anything to do with this.”

  “What about the shoe print, Brian? Detective Burns was trying to prove that it was yours. That is why she wanted to meet with me. She thought she could prove your involvement. Was it yours?”

  “Oh my God, Chloe. No! Of course it wasn’t mine! I could almost, almost, see where you would question my involvement with Detective Burns, but with Carson? You really think I am capable of that?” He walked over and fell into the barstool.

  I felt terrible for not trusting him, I really did. But somehow, I know Detective Burns’ murder is connected to Carson’s case. Even if Mila had another lover that helped her with the murder, they wouldn’t want Detective Burns dead. Detective Burns was the one chance Mila had at walking away from this. Detective Burns had reasonable doubts, a lot of them. And she would have testified to all of them during the trial.

  “I don’t know what to think right now, Brian. I am sorry. I know you wouldn’t. I don’t think you would…”

  “Chloe, I didn’t.”

  “I didn’t hear any sirens this morning,” I said, sitting down beside him.

  “Here!” He jumped from the barstool and pulled me with him to the front door. “Look! Look at the time enabled. No one has been in or out of this house all night.”

  I looked at the display. Alarm enabled since 9:07pm.

  “Here,” he said. Resetting it and emailing the footage to my phone. “You watch the surveillance, Chloe. I didn’t leave this house.”

  My stomach twisted with guilt as I realized that I had just accused my husband of something as terrible as murdering a detective, reporting Carson’s body, and even possibly stalking me and I fell into his arms. “I am so sorry, Brian. I really am. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

  I felt tears building, thinking about the space I almost put between me and the best thing in my life; Brian. But also, thinking about Detective Burns. I never liked the woman, but knowing that she was dead, it made my heart sink. She had devoted her life to stopping crime and as a reward, hers was robbed from her.

  “But who would want her dead?” I asked.

  “I don’t know, Chloe. I don’t know if she was working on any other cases or if it even had to do with cases at all. But I am certain they will solve it within hours. They cannot afford to let the public think they can’t even catch the murderer of one of their own.”

  “This is terrible.”

  The doorbell rang and I braced myself for the questi
ons I wouldn’t have answers to. But when I heard the door open, it was silent. Brian stood looking outside and I walked to stand behind him. He stepped to the side when I rested my hand on his back and revealed a vase filled with black roses. I instantly started to cry and he pulled me into him after he slammed the door shut.

  Black roses meant death. These roses were poetic. Whoever had been leaving the roses is the person who killed Detective Burns.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Suicide. That is what they are saying. Everything was consistent with suicide. The residue on Detective Burns’ left hand, she was left handed. The position of the body post mortem was true to what it should have been. Her arm and the gun had both landed according to computer animation analysis prediction. There was even blood splatter on her left hand, proving that she pulled the trigger. It was a textbook suicide.

  I do not believe it nor do I even consider it a possibility. I spent six years studying behaviors and Detective Burns was not a suicidal woman. She took too much pride in being superior. To leave this world, in the most vulnerable state there is, was not something I would ever believe Detective Burns would do. Not to mention she was shot. The least common way for a woman to commit suicide. Granted, I don’t think Detective Burns was big on vanity, I still do not think she would want her legacy to be such a messy death. Especially since her coworkers would be the ones cleaning the scene. Women think of that, they think of the mess and how someone will have to clean up after them. Usually women who commit suicide do so in a less violent way, like pills. Which is one reason I know Detective Burns didn’t shoot herself in her left temple. It was an execution, no matter how much forensic evidence proves otherwise.

  Detective Pete stared at Brian, trying to intimidate him with his small, squinted eyes. It was no surprise that Brian was the main suspect, he had even regrettably been my first thought.