Still, Forever, Promise

by D. L. Merritt

  She’d always been envious of his ability to fall asleep anywhere at any time. She was never that lucky, often suffering from insomnia.

  After tossing for another ten minutes, she gave up and eased out of bed to go downstairs for a drink of water.

  She slipped on the silk robe she always left hanging on the footpost and felt around under the bed for her fluffy slippers. She found them next to the chair by the window. Out of respect for Ben, she tiptoed out of the bedroom, careful to shut the door without making any noise.

  Plagued by the horrible images from her dream, she flipped on the hall light as she passed. Instead of easing her discomfort, the light cast eerie shadows on the walls. She rushed down the stairs, cursing under her breath about how much she hated dark, confined places.

  She made the kitchen her first stop where she grabbed a bottle of spring water from the refrigerator, twisted the cap off, and took a sip.

  Cautious by nature, she decided to check all the doors and windows to make sure they were secure. Both the back door and kitchen windows were locked.

  She stopped to check the front door on her way to the living room, also locked. The living room was her favorite place to relax after a grueling day, sleek and uncluttered with its cool gray walls. She dropped to the gray sofa anchored between two navy club chairs, pulling one of the accent pillows in navy, cream, and yellow to her chest. She propped her feet on the yellow ottoman and cocked her head to one side to stare at the contemporary painting hanging above the fireplace. This print helped to blend all the colors in the room together. She’d added chrome accessories for subtle sparkle, and the room had become one of her best designs. In fact, it had recently been featured in the local newspaper.

  She rested her head on the pillow and tried to relax, but for some reason she couldn’t. Her nerves were on edge. She was spooked by every creak and groan in the house. Her instincts were usually exceptional, so why weren’t they working tonight?

  Brianna checked every corner of the room and nothing looked out of place, but something didn’t feel right.

  She was startled when the doorbell rang and the bottle of water flew out of her hand, spilling half the contents down the front of her robe before landing on the floor. She picked the bottle up on the way to the front door and screwed the cap back on before looking through the peephole.

  A Sonoma County Sheriff’s vehicle was parked in the driveway. Two uniformed officers stood on the front porch. Having law enforcement at your residence at this time of day was never a good sign, and her heart skipped a beat.

  It’s about my parents.

  She unbolted the locks.

  The older officer was blowing a bubble with his chewing gum when she opened the door. He seemed startled and the bubble burst with a loud pop. He addressed her. “Are you, Miss Brianna Rossi?”

  “Yes, I am.”

  “I’m Lieutenant Holcomb.” He flashed his badge. “May we come in?”

  She waved them inside.

  The lieutenant was a well-groomed man in a starched tan shirt, pressed dark-green pants, and shiny black leather shoes. His gray hair was neat and trimmed close to his scalp. With sad brown eyes, a squashed nose, and hanging jowls, Brianna couldn’t help but liken him to a bulldog.

  The lieutenant tilted his head in the direction of a man who looked no older than early 20s. “This is my partner, Deputy Gray.”

  The deputy nodded in acknowledgment and averted his gaze. His appearance was far from the fastidious grooming of his superior. His caramel-colored hair needed a haircut. His shirt was wrinkled, as if it had laid wadded in a heap for several days, and his shoes were scuffed. He avoided looking at her. Why? He had such nice eyes, the color of the sky right before a storm.

  She was suddenly filled with an ominous foreboding and braced herself for what the lieutenant had to say. He was close enough that Brianna could smell the faint odor of stale coffee and cinnamon gum. She found herself concentrating on the lieutenant’s mouth, waiting for another bubble to pop.

  Lieutenant Holcomb cleared his throat and announced in a matter-of-fact tone, as if he’d done this several times, “Miss Rossi, I regret to inform you that your parents have been in a boating accident in Stillwater Cove. As the cove is in Sonoma County’s jurisdiction, our department got the call to handle the investigation.”

  His words came out a blur. She didn’t ask if her parents had been hurt or if they were in the hospital. She already knew the answer.

  Her mouth was dry, and she twisted the cap off the bottled water and took another sip before she asked, “What happened? My parents came by this morning before I left for work to tell me they’d be taking the yacht out for the weekend. Father always anchors close to shore. He . . . he handles a boat like a pro. He was in the navy for twenty years.”

  She knew she rambled, but she used this tactic to get control of her emotions. She couldn’t break down, not in front of the lieutenant. He didn’t need to know the last meeting she had with her father hadn’t been pleasant, and they hadn’t spoken to each other since.

  The lieutenant continued. “We’re not sure. The Coast Guard received a call around midnight stating a yacht in Stillwater Cove had exploded.”

  “Exploded? How?” I know how–fire.

  “All I can tell you at this juncture of the investigation is the Coast Guard has done a preliminary search of the area for any sign of wreckage. They will continue to look for debris over the next two to three days until they’ve recovered everything possible to help us determine the cause of the explosion.”

  Brianna couldn’t shake the nagging sensation the lieutenant had unspoken questions, but she didn’t ask. “And my parents? Where are they?”

  “They haven’t been found yet. From what we’ve discovered so far, it looks like the fire started in the stern of the yacht and traveled to the fuel tank. Fuel oil creates a high-order explosion. It has a tendency to pulverize whatever is nearby.”

  “I don’t understand. High-order explosion?”

  “It’s difficult to explain. What I’m trying to say . . . well . . . if your parents were on board when the yacht exploded, there won’t be much left to find.”

  Brianna winced.

  “I’m sorry, Miss Rossi. I’ve been told I’m too blunt sometimes. What I meant to say is that it’s possible their bodies might never be recovered.”

  Brianna blinked hard to keep the tears from falling. Her head pounded, and she had to swallow the thick lump in her throat before speaking. “Do you know how the fire started?”

  “Not at this time. We’ll know more once all the evidence is collected and we’ve had time to complete our investigation.”

  “How long will that take?”

  “Weeks, maybe longer. I’ll be sure to keep you informed as the investigation progresses.” The lieutenant ran his hand around the inside of his collar. “I’m sorry for your loss, Miss Rossi.”

  “Bree, what’s going on?” Ben had come out of his coma and stood, all six feet of him, barefoot and shirtless, on the bottom step of the stairs.

  “My parents were in an accident.” She paused before adding, “I think they’re dead.”

  Ben rushed to her side and placed his arm around her shoulder.

  Brianna leaned in for support, grateful he’d come to her side. She didn’t know how much longer she could’ve stood on her own. She tried to remain composed, but a solitary tear slipped out and trickled down her cheek.

  Memories flashed like a slideshow, a continuous stream of pictures of her life—holidays, birthday parties, high school and college graduation, weekend camping trips, and yearly vacations. Every pleasant and meaningful time in her life had revolved around her parents. From this day forward, her life would change forever.

  Lieutenant Holcomb turned his attention to Ben and said in a gravelly voice, “And you are?”

  “Benjamin Gregory, Brianna’s fiancé. What can we do to help?”

  “Nothing, at the moment.” The lieutenant fished in
his pocket and pulled out a card. He handed it to Brianna. “If you have any questions, or by some miracle your parents weren’t on board at the time of the explosion and they contact you, give me a call at that number.”

  They won’t.

  She nodded.

  The officers headed back to the front door with Brianna and Ben following.

  Deputy Gray, who hadn’t uttered a word since they arrived, stopped in the doorway. He lifted his solemn gray eyes and looked directly at her. “I’m sorry about your parents,” he mumbled, and dropped his eyes to the floor again. He followed his superior outside and shut the door behind him with a soft click.

  ***

  Deputy Gray clambered into the passenger’s seat and turned to face his superior. “Sir, does it ever get any easier when you have to tell a family member a loved one is dead?”

  Holcomb turned the key in the ignition. He answered without looking at the deputy. “No, Gray, it doesn’t.”

  The deputy snapped his seat belt. With his question answered, he stared out the window.

  The lieutenant focused his attention on maneuvering the car down the driveway and back to the main highway. He tried to ignore the gnawing in the pit of his stomach. He’d been with the sheriff’s department for twenty-eight years, working patrol and warrants until nabbing a position in investigation. In all his time on the force, he’d learned to trust his instincts. Something didn’t feel right about this case. He didn’t think the explosion was an accident. The daughter said her father was in the Navy. He would know how to handle a boat.

  And the daughter acted weird for someone who’d just heard her parents were likely dead. She didn’t faint. No hysterics. One tear and he wondered if that wasn’t staged to look like she gave a damn.

  And then there’s the fiancé with two first names. He didn’t know what to think of him.

  Well, no sense jumping to conclusions before he had all the facts. He needed solid proof before he could change the investigation from an accident to a homicide. He could wait.

  ***

  After the officers left, Brianna collapsed to the floor. Ben carried her into the living room and laid her on the couch. He went back to retrieve the half-empty bottle of water left by the door. He returned and held the bottle to her lips, urging her to drink.

  His eyes were misty when he spoke. “Bree, I don’t know what to say. Is there anything I can do?”

  Brianna sat up to study his face. Ben had lost both his parents when he was seven, leaving him with only vague memories. She wasn’t sure he would understand what it felt like to lose two people who had been a huge part of your life. She shook her head and sank back into the cushions. “I’m going to sit here for a while. Why don’t you go back to bed? There’s nothing we can do until the Coast Guard finds—”

  “No! I’m not leaving you alone.” He grabbed the throw off the chair and tucked it around her legs. He sat next to her and drew her into his arms.

  With her head on Ben’s shoulder, Brianna stared out the panoramic expanse of windows. She’d bought this condo because of its view of the city and its nighttime display of twinkling lights. Tonight the lights had lost their sparkle. They were more subdued, distant, not unlike her emotions.

  The grandfather clock chimed three times—too early to make phone calls, so she made a mental list of people to notify and arrangements to be made. She would call the manager at the restaurant first thing in the morning. Should she close the restaurant? That would be the appropriate thing to do in a situation like this.

  She needed to close her office as well. Her clients would understand under the circumstances.

  Charlene had to be told, but that could wait. No sense waking her up.

  Try to relax. There’s nothing I can do until morning.

  She snuggled closer to Ben.

  He drew her down on the sofa, spooning against her back, and ran his hand up and down her arm.

  She knew he was doing his best to console her, but she only felt numb and continued to gaze into the vast abyss of darkness.

  Chapter 3

  Before the sun had fully reached the horizon, Brianna slid out from under Ben’s arm. He stirred, but remained asleep. Her fluffy slippers didn’t make a sound as she padded into the kitchen to make a cup of tea. Pulling a scratch pad and pen out of the drawer by the phone, she wrote down as much of the list from last night as she could remember. She kept a constant vigil on the clock, waiting for 8:00 a.m.

  When it arrived, her first call was to her business partner, Charlene. She explained what Lieutenant Holcomb had told her about the accident and what to expect in the following days.

  Charlene didn’t speak until Brianna had finished. “Oh my God! How awful. Look . . . umm . . . I’ll go to the office and put a sign on the door explaining we’ll be closed for a family emergency. I’ll call and cancel all of our appointments for the week. Then I’ll head over there. I’ll be there as soon as I can. Don’t worry, Bree, I’ll handle everything.”

  Relieved that Charlene would take care of the office, she checked on Ben before going upstairs to dress. He was still asleep.

  The doorbell rang at 9:30. She rushed downstairs, but by the time she reached the bottom riser, Ben was already at the door, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. As soon as the door opened, Charlene rushed in with her hands fluttering in the air. Brianna met her halfway, running into her outstretched arms.

  “I’m so sorry this happened—especially to your parents, of all people. Don’t worry about the office. Take as much time off as you need. I can keep the jobs we have moving forward until you’re ready to come back. What else can I do?”

  “There’s nothing anyone can do but wait until they find my—”

  “Stop it! You don’t know for sure if they were even on the boat.”

  “I know. Lieutenant Holcomb said he’d keep me updated.”

  “Why don’t I cook us breakfast? I know I could use a cup of strong coffee. How ’bout you, Ben?”

  “Sounds good to me. I’m starved,” Ben said.

  The doorbell rang before the trio made it to the kitchen. Brianna opened it this time to find a rumpled Lieutenant Holcomb standing on the front porch. He was alone this morning. Where’d he leave his sidekick? The cruiser parked in the driveway was empty. No Deputy Gray to be found. From the state of the lieutenant’s uniform, it looked like he’d been up all night.

  Why’s he here? He must have discovered something. “Back so soon, Lieutenant?”

  “Sorry to be a pest, but I have a few more questions.”

  “I’ve already told you everything I know.”

  “I promise it won’t take long,” he muttered.

  “Then come in,” she said with a heavy sigh. She escorted the lieutenant into the living room.

  Ben and Charlene, wide-eyed, had watched the exchange between her and Lieutenant Holcomb. She motioned for them to join her. Self-preservation dictated that she should not be alone with the officer.

  Brianna, Charlene, and Ben sat on the sofa. The lieutenant took a seat in one of the club chairs across from them and placed a tape recorder on the chrome end table next to his chair. He acknowledged Ben. “I know you’re the fiancé.” He transferred his gaze to Charlene. “But who are you?”

  Brianna answered with veiled hostility. “Charlene Gregory. She’s my best friend and a partner in my design firm.”

  Holcomb’s face lit up. “Gregory?” He jabbed his finger back and forth between Ben and Charlene. “You two related?”

  “Charlene is Ben’s sister,” Brianna said.

  Holcomb pressed the Play button on the recorder and continued with his questioning. “How long have you known Ms. Gregory?”

  Charlene and Brianna answered in unison. “About two years.”

  Brianna added, “We met when I transferred from West Virginia State University to The Academy of Art in San Francisco.”

  Brianna thought back to their first meeting when she’d pulled out of a parking space in front of
the library and smashed into Charlene’s car. They’d exchanged insurance information and had been friends ever since, despite Charlene being seven years her senior.

  “And how long have you known your fiancé?”

  “Charlene introduced us six months ago.”

  “Hmm.”

  Brianna eyed the lieutenant. What does he mean by that? Is he suspicious of Ben and Charlene or just me?

  Holcomb continued prodding. “Do any of you know if the yacht had any mechanical problems?”

  Ben and Charlene shook their heads.

  “I don’t know much about boats. I didn’t go on the yacht often because I get seasick. Boating was my parents’ hobby, not mine. Why are you asking? Was that the reason the yacht exploded?”

  “We haven’t come to any conclusions yet. I like to cover my bases. Were your parents having marital problems?”

  “Of course not!”

  “Is there any reason someone would want to harm them?”

  Charlene answered first. “They’re the nicest people I’ve ever met. I can’t think of a single person who’d want to hurt them.”

  “I’ve known them less time than my sister, but they were always kind to everyone, including me.”

  Brianna fiddled with the buttons on her blouse. “We moved here two years ago. My parents spent most of that time getting the restaurant established. They didn’t have much time to socialize, but I can’t think of a single person who didn’t like them.”

  “Who would benefit the most from their death?”

  As the sole beneficiary it would be futile to lie. The lieutenant would find out soon enough. “I would,” Brianna said. She got to her feet as her anger threatened to boil over. “All these questions make it sound as if you think one of us is responsible for what happened to my parents.”

  “Just gathering facts, Miss Rossi. Do you have something you want to tell me?”

  “Of course not! It’s time for you leave, Lieutenant.” She pointed to the door. “We can’t help you. We don’t know why the yacht exploded.”