The River and the Roses (Veronica Barry Book 1)

by Sophia Martin

  She hoped they found the guy but in truth she didn’t want to think about it at all, and she tried to keep it out of her mind. It made it much easier to get through her day. When she told this to Melanie Monday evening on the phone, her friend said she’d have to deal with it eventually. It was a traumatic experience.

  “These things don’t just go away,” Melanie said. “You have to get through them.”

  Veronica shrugged as she held the phone in one hand and refilled the cats’ kibble with the other. “Maybe so. But I don’t want to do that now. I think I’ll wait for the whole thing to feel more like a distant memory.”

  “Have you had any more nightmares like the one you had on Friday?”

  “No, thank goodness,” Veronica said. “I’ve been sleeping just fine.”

  “Well, that’s good. You looked pretty exhausted at the mall.”

  “Has Angie forgiven you yet?”

  “Yes, which is actually very suspect. I think she’s planning something. But then, that would be nothing new—she did a great job of hiding that party from me, you know.”

  “Angie knows how to be sneaky,” Veronica agreed, heading for the couch.

  “I’ll be nailing her bedroom window shut.”

  “Sounds like a good plan,” Veronica laughed.

  “Anyway, dear, I’d better go. Dinner needs to be microwaved.”

  “You and Martha Stewart should swap cooking tips.”

  “Don’t I know it.”

  “Okay, talk to you soon.”

  Veronica hung up and sighed. Maybe Melanie was right about traumatic experiences, but she just felt like putting it all behind her. There was nothing wrong with that, was there?

  ~~~

  On Tuesday mornings she went in later so she got to watch the news on TV. A brief story caught her eye.

  “Police have arrested a homeless man in connection with a murder that took place earlier this week. The homeless man had been sleeping in McKinley Park, not far from where the victim was found. The District Attorney’s office has no official comment but sources say they are moving for an arraignment to be scheduled as soon as possible.”

  Veronica sat with her hand on her mug of tea, staring at the TV. She started to feel her chest burn and for a moment she saw the dark trees, and felt that awful guilt. She shook herself. “God, no. I won’t think about this now.”

  She turned her attention to her painting instead. Margaret was hoping to have it by the end of the month, she knew. It was going to be a birthday gift for her husband, and Margaret said his birthday was the first week of March. Veronica would have no trouble finishing the painting if she worked on it steadily. But since the nightmare she couldn’t think about picking up a paintbrush. If she didn’t paint, though, she had to find something to keep busy, so she wouldn’t start thinking about the trees and the roses again.

  There was laundry to do. When laundry became an appealing pastime, it was a sign that things in her life were seriously out of whack. How silly, worrying about something she could do nothing about. They found the guy. Good. Very good. To think he was just hanging out in the park this whole time. She probably ran right by him when she went out there after her nightmare. He could have attacked her, too. But somehow, she felt no fear about it. It gave her no sense of having been a real danger.

  Just because she thought she had some connection with this poor woman—just because she held her poor body, she didn’t know. She couldn’t know.

  As the washer hummed, she went to put away the detergent, and found Binky in the cupboard, gazing at her with wide eyes. She reached up and grabbed him, giving him a peck on the back of the head as she set him at her feet. The detergent went in its spot in the cabinet. Tugging the lint filter out of the dryer, she stood for a moment staring at it as if she’d forgotten what it was.

  Clearly the police had been careful. They had investigated. They found this homeless man. If anyone had screwed up anything about the investigation it was her, stumbling into their crime scene and pawing the body like some crazed person—she’d been out of her head.

  Just stop thinking about it. Veronica scraped the felt-like layer of lint into the trash and replaced the filter.

  It was all just an awful coincidence. She’d gone for a walk in the park with Melanie, Angie and Harry. They walked through the rose garden. She had that awful nightmare and for some reason she’d just lost it and run off to McKinley Park in the middle of the night. And then there just happened to be the body of this poor woman, Sylvia Gomez. It was a terrible, terrible coincidence. That was all.

  She pulled the door of the washer up and the clothes swished to a stop. What was she doing? She closed the lid again, and the cycle resumed.

  Veronica didn’t know Sylvia Gomez. They showed a photo of her in the short piece on the news. She didn’t recognize her, had never met her. She didn’t know her at all. She couldn’t know anything about her. That was that.

  At school that day she was in a bad mood and the kids seemed to sense it. They left her alone, which was unusual. Usually someone wanted to chat with her at lunch or at the end of the school day. But it was just as well. She didn’t have it in her to talk to anyone. She just wanted to get home. Maybe she’d take Harry over to Folsom Lake and walk for a while, to clear her mind. In any case, she was done thinking about Sylvia Gomez. She was.

  ~~~

  Nothing appeared about it in the paper the next day and on Thursday morning, since it was another late day, she watched the news again. But they made no mention of it. So she succeeded, more or less, in putting it out of her mind.

  She was pleased, that afternoon, to hear from Melanie, although she hoped she wouldn’t bring the whole thing up again.

  “He came home early!” her friend exclaimed over the phone. “For Valentine’s Day!”

  “Chris? He’s back? I thought he had to be in San Diego until the end of the month?”

  “So did I, but he said he wanted to take me out for Valentine’s. He has to go back on Monday. Well, Sunday night. But he’s up for the weekend!”

  Melanie sounded ecstatic. Veronica smiled, and silently thanked her friend for being so caught up in Chris that she forgot to check in about the Traumatic Experience.

  “That’s great, Mel. Did he tell you what he has planned?”

  “No, that’s the best part. Or the worst. I haven’t decided. He said ‘wear something nice,’ and I said ‘nice like church nice?’ and he said ‘nice like black tie nice.’ Black tie nice! Oh, Veronica, I don’t know what to do now. It’s tomorrow and I have nothing that is that nice!”

  “Okay, well, it sounds like a shopping trip to me. I bet we could find something at La Boutique Chic,” Veronica said.

  “But it’s going to be so expensive.”

  “Don’t worry. I’m sure we can figure something out. If nothing else, they have a clearance rack. We’d better hurry. I think they close at seven.”

  ~~~

  They met at the store and Veronica showed Melanie the clearance rack.

  “How did you know about this place?” Mel asked.

  “I’ve had to chaperone some of the formals at school. I found a nice dress here for a hundred and fifty dollars. Marked down from four hundred and something! It had a flaw on one sleeve. Nothing you’d notice. Anyway that’s what I wear now when I chaperone.”

  “What do you think of this one?” Mel asked, pulling out a long orange gown.

  Veronica made a face and shook her head. “I don’t think orange is your color. How about this?”

  She showed Melanie a short purple cocktail dress.

  “Oh, you think so? I thought I should go long?”

  “No reason to. You’ll be uncomfortable moving around in a long dress and I can’t think of anything you can’t wear something like this too. It’s not that short. Try it on.”

  Melanie gave her a skeptical look and draped the dress over her arm. “Okay, but I want to try this one.”

  “Oh, a little black dress! Go
od call.” Veronica nodded. Melanie put it over her arm as well. “And you know, it is Valentine’s Day. So maybe this one?” Veronica showed Melanie a red dress with beading around the décolleté.

  “Okay. That’s good, I’ll try these.”

  “I’m going to sit right there. I want a fashion show, alright?”

  “Of course,” said Melanie.

  Veronica settled into a red plastic chair that was pretty to look at but not very comfortable.

  “So, how have you been?” Melanie called from behind the door of the changing room.

  “Me? Fine,” said Veronica. Please don’t let her bring it up, she added mentally.

  “No more nightmares?”

  Damn. “No. I’ve been sleeping great.”

  “No anxiety, or anything?”

  “No. I mean, I watched the news a couple of times. They caught the guy, it looks like. But you probably already knew that.”

  “Well, yeah. It’s one of my files.”

  Melanie emerged from the dressing room in the purple dress. It had a lot of ruffles. Veronica frowned and shook her head. Melanie wrinkled her nose in agreement and went back inside.

  “They set a date for the arraignment. It’s next Monday.”

  “Okay,” Veronica said. “Isn’t that pretty quick?”

  “A bit. It’s been a slow couple of weeks. If everything goes normally, the trial will be maybe a month after that. Maybe more. You know, sometimes these things drag on for a while.”

  “Yeah.”

  “There’s no real pressure from anywhere to move it along. Well, except for the husband. He wants to kill the guy himself but who can blame him?”

  She came out again, this time in the black.

  “Nice,” Veronica said with a nod. “Basic. Classic. Elegant. But try the red on, just to see.”

  “Okay,” said Melanie. She went back in. “Anyway, when the trial does roll around, you know you’ll be called on to testify. And chances are both sides are going to want to talk to you before then.”

  Veronica sighed and rubbed her eyes with her hands. “Yeah.”

  “I’m sorry, hon. I’m just telling you so you can prepare yourself. You can’t just pretend nothing ever happened. It’s going to come back to you no matter what.”

  “Yeah.”

  Melanie came out, and Veronica’s eyes widened. “Oh Mel. Did you see yourself? That dress is amazing.”

  “You think so?” She turned and looked in the full length mirror. She smiled. “I think I like it.”

  “Like it? You look like a bombshell, Mel! The way that color brings out the red highlights in your hair…”

  “Okay, so you like it.”

  “Oh my god, if you don’t get that dress I’ll disown you as a friend.”

  Melanie laughed. “Wow, you feel strongly about it, huh? Or are you just trying to change the subject, Miss Sneaky? And I thought my daughter was a clever one.”

  “No joke, Melanie. That dress looks fabulous. You have to get it.” She stood next to Melanie and turned her around, looking in the mirror. “And it’s red. It’s perfect for Valentine’s Day.”

  “Alright, alright,” Melanie said. “It’s a little pricier than the others, but I haven’t got myself a birthday present yet… unless you count the cardigan at Ann Taylor—”

  “—which you needed for work since the city doesn’t ever heat the building enough!” Veronica finished for her. “Shopping for things you need doesn’t count as buying a birthday present, Mel. Now this, on the other hand…” She grinned and nodded.

  Melanie chuckled. “You talked me into it. Thank you.” She kissed Veronica on the cheek.

  “You’re welcome. For what?”

  “For bringing me here. For helping me pick the dress. And for making me feel like I’m going to look like a million bucks tomorrow on my date with Chris!” Her voice rose into a near-squeal.

  “Yay!” Veronica said, mimicking the tone. She was happy for Melanie. And glad that the subject had been changed, after all.

  ~~~

  Melanie called Veronica at seven the next night as she waited for Chris to arrive at the door. She was a bundle of nerves and Veronica managed to get her to breathe deeply two times before the doorbell rang and Melanie hung up in a panic. Veronica smiled and made herself a bag of popcorn. She curled up on the couch and watched one of the old movies she regularly DVR’d. This one had Bette Davis. Veronica loved old movies.

  She watched another movie and stayed up until eleven, hoping Mel might call to tell her how the date went, but she knew she wouldn’t call any later than that. Veronica would just have to wait until tomorrow for her blow-by-blow of what happened. She went to bed, thinking, No dreams, no dreams, no dreams. And it worked.

  Her cell phone woke her. It was pitch black, and when she hit the alarm clock in her confusion the screen lit up, informing her that it was 2:04. “What?” she muttered, and rummaged through the pockets of the pants she’d taken off and left in the middle of the floor when she changed into her pajamas. The cell phone display said it was Melanie.

  “Hey,” she said, instantly worried. No one spoke at the other end. “Are you okay? Did something happen?”

  “Oh, Veronica, please come over here. You have to come over here.”

  “Oh my god, something happened? Are you okay?”

  “Please hurry. It’s Angela. She’s missing.”

  Chapter 5

  Veronica pulled off her pajama bottoms and put on pants. It felt like even that took too long so she left on the pajama top and grabbed her coat. Harry whined as she rushed to the door.

  “I’m sorry, bud, I have to go.”

  But she stopped and looked at him. Harry gazed back at her. Maybe she should bring him along. No, she thought. The last thing Mellie needs is Harry under foot. But as she turned to leave again, she had to reconsider. She couldn’t say why, but bringing Harry seemed like a good idea. She grabbed his harness but didn’t stop to put it on. He’d follow her to the car without it.

  She locked the door behind her, reminded unpleasantly of the last time she left the house in the dark and how she hadn’t stopped. Once she and Harry sat in the Civic she turned the key in the ignition. It made that awful noise again and the engine didn’t turn over. “Oh god, no. Come on, not now.”

  She tried again and the car started. She blew the air she hadn’t realized she was holding out through her mouth and started for Melanie’s house. She reached the old Victorian in a record ten minutes, and rushed up to the door. Melanie yanked it open almost as soon as she hit the bell. Her face fell when she saw it was Veronica.

  Veronica let Harry go in ahead of her and she grabbed Melanie in a tight hug. “What happened? Where’s Chris?”

  “He went back home.”

  “He left you with Angie missing?” Veronica asked, reassessing her former good impression of him.

  “No, he didn’t know. He dropped me off a little after eleven. I was so happy, Veronica, we had such a nice time—of course, my head was just in the clouds—I didn’t even look in on her until midnight! Can you believe it? What kind of mother am I? I didn’t even notice my child was gone until an hour after I got home!”

  “Okay, try to calm down. So you checked on her in her room?”

  Melanie nodded. “I fell for the pillows under the covers trick.”

  “When, at midnight?”

  “No, when I first got home.”

  “So you did check on her.”

  “Yes, but not really. Not enough to know she wasn’t there. I peeked in—I was—I was relieved that she was asleep.” Melanie burst into tears.

  “It’s okay, Mel, you didn’t do anything wrong. You checked on her and you thought she was asleep, and you wanted a little bit of time, to think about the date, right? Who wouldn’t?”

  Melanie nodded. “She wasn’t really in bed,” she managed. Veronica nodded. Angie had pulled a fast one, and she was probably out on a date having a great time while her mother was having a me
ltdown. “I—I went in again, at midnight, to give her a kiss. I was feeling—I was so happy, and I was—I was grateful, because Chris told me—”

  Veronica led her to the couch and eased her down. “It’s okay. Just take a breath. Okay? We’re going to figure this out.”

  “Chris said Angie wrote him a message. On Facebook. To tell him he should try to come up for Valentine’s Day. And take me out.” Melanie grabbed Veronica’s forearms, her eyes widening. “But none of that matters, Veronica, she’s missing—”

  Veronica nodded, looking her in the eyes. “Yes, yes, I know, but tell me what happened and we’ll figure it out. Okay? So Angela’s behind Chris’s unexpected return.” Clever girl. She had succeeded in totally distracting her poor mother.

  “And she must have snuck out as soon as we were gone. She went to that dance—”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, Veronica, that’s what I’m trying to tell you. She left her phone there—I was calling and calling, and some teacher picked it up at one in the morning and said she took it home with her after they closed up the cafeteria. They closed it up at eleven! She’s been missing since at least eleven!”

  Veronica blinked. “So wait, you’re saying she went to the dance but then she must have gone somewhere else?”

  “And left her phone behind. Yes.”

  “And you’ve called all her friends…”

  “What do you think I’ve been doing for the last hour? And the police. They said they’d keep an eye out for her but you know how they are—they won’t do anything really until she’s been missing for at least a day. Oh, Veronica, something bad has happened, I can feel it.”

  Veronica shook her head. “No, don’t think that. You’re just really worried right now. But she’s fine. She’s fifteen. She’s probably out having the most romantic time of her life and has just totally lost track of time. I used to give my aunt meltdowns just like she’s doing to you. I remember calling her at three in the morning one time. Angie’s going to call you any minute.”