by Lorenzo, DD
“I’m so sorry. You have to believe me,” she said to Aria the moment she came through the door.
Wringing her hands, Aimee was more distressed than Aria had ever seen her.
“What did you think was going to happen, Aimee?” Aria asked. “We’d just fall into each other’s arms and everything would go back to the way it used to be?”
Aria was more sad than angry with their friend.
Aimee looked as if she were about to cry.
“If you want to know the truth, then I guess, yes, I kind of hoped for that,” she confessed.
Aria’s voice trembled with emotion.
“I don’t know what I was thinking,” she said as the tears, once again, threatened to fall.
She reached for a box of tissues and dabbed the softness on her cheeks.
“I thought it was you that had followed me back to the suite, but when I opened the door, it was him standing there in the doorway,” she said in explanation.
Emotions undone, the events of the past day and night engulfed her. Paige came to sit beside as Aimee, too, began to cry.
“I’m sorry…I’m so, so sorry,” she cried. “I’ve made a terrible, huge mess of things…and I’ve hurt two really good friends.” She was devastated.
Knowing that she had the power to let Aimee suffer with her meddlesome actions, Aria was tempted to let the brevity of the situation settle in—but that wasn’t her personality.
“Why did you do it?” she asked. “Please tell me the truth. You know everything we’ve both been through—I just want to know why? I want you to tell me the truth, Aimee,” Aria insisted, her voice stuffy from crying.
Aimee dropped her head, dabbing her eyes with the tissue.
“I did it because I think—No, I know—that he’s still in love with you…”
She looked at Aria, tears falling down her cheeks.
“I also think that, if you’re truthful, you’re still in love with him too.”
She moved to sit on the other side of Aria, apologetic for having the situation go so horribly wrong.
There it was. Truth in its raw form being taken from the shadows and put out into the light by a mutual friend. If Aria was as honest as she believed herself to be, how could she be angry with the truth?
Paige looked directly at Aria.
“I heard you say it on the beach, but I’m asking you—Do you?” she asked.
Aria started to speak, but her voice was hoarse with emotion.
“Are you still in love with him, Aria? Do you want him back?” Paige asked again.
She and Aimee looked to her for an answer.
Aria nodded and whispered her response, “I do…”
That was a few days ago. The remainder of that evening was very emotional for her—for all of them. Aria, usually reserved about her feelings, confided in her friends about how the evening’s events transpired, and how it convinced her that she was still in love with Declan. She also confided to them that she wasn’t certain what she was going to do from that point forward.
Explaining his reactions to them, they agreed with her that his need to protect her was misguided. They also agreed that she had to let Declan accept his injuries in his own way—and they warned her against trying to become his “savior.”
Aimee interjected in the conversation that, in her long friendship with Declan, he was strong-willed and independent, and Aria was the first person she had ever witnessed him allow to become close to him. She knew that eventually he’d work it out in his own mind, but she truly was convinced that he was also still in love with her.
Asking Aria to not give up on him, Aimee made one final plea.
“I know I may have screwed this up, but I did it for the right reasons,” she said, speaking into her hair as she gave Aria a hug. “You two belong together, I just know it.”
Aria gave her a squeeze. “I believe you—and I know you did, but you have to let me handle this my own way from now on, okay? I have to figure this out the way I feel is best.”
Aimee nodded in agreement and they separated, standing in the hall for a few minutes.
“Just remember that I love him, Aimee. I’m not going to do anything to hurt him on purpose,” Aria assured her.
Aimee, worn out with emotion, stood by her door.
“I believe that, but I love you both,” she said.
She looked at Aria with sorrowful eyes.
“Do you forgive me for screwing this up?” she asked.
Aria’s chest rose and fell as she sighed.
“You didn’t screw this up,” she consoled. “You might have forced us a little further along in the process than we might have been, but you didn’t screw it up—and yes, I forgive you.”
Both girls, completely worn out from the events, turned to go into their bedrooms, bidding the other goodnight.
Over the next forty-eight hours, Aria began to plan how she’d interject herself, once again, into Declan’s world. She wouldn’t push herself on him, but she knew for certain that he loved her—and that, at least, was a start. She believed that they could build on that. If she walked away from this relationship, she wanted to know that she had done everything possible to make it survive.
As they were flying, the conversation turned to the benefit for Lacey’s Scholarship Fund. Paige and Aimee filled her in on all of the details. They saw a gleam surface in her eyes at the memory of Lacey and all the incidentals connected with the function. It was three weeks away, and both Paige and Aimee wanted her to be there.
“You know, Carter mailed an invitation to you,” Paige said. Have you checked your mail?”
Aria smirked. “How would you know what’s in my mail, missy?”
Then she laughed. It was the first break in the tension since the fiasco with Declan. Her lips broke into a smile.
“Yes,” she said, “I did receive the invitation, and I wouldn’t disappoint Carter. I’m definitely attending.”
Both girls squealed quietly on the plane.
“This is great!” Aimee stated.
Aria eyed her cautiously.
“I’m not going to do anything. I promise!” Aimee said, crossing her fingers over her heart.
Paige appeared lost in her thoughts for a moment, then spoke.
“Want to go shopping?” she asked them. “We could get something new. We’ll ask Katherine, too. We can make a day of it.”
“Oh yeah!” Aria chirped happily. She loved getting together with them all. “That sounds great!” Tell me,” she asked, “how are they raising money for the Scholarship fund? Ticket sales? What?”
Aimee deferred to Paige for the details.
“Ticket sales, yes,” she answered, “but lots of silent auction items. Carter isn’t aware of how many and what type. We have items that go all the way from a week on a private island, to a dinner for two at a local restaurant. There’s an auction item to fit every budget. We’re hoping to blow him away.”
Aria was lost in the treasure of her memories for a moment, then replied, “Lacey would love that something’s being done for a child in her name. I didn’t know her long, but I felt I knew her well,” she said thoughtfully. “She’d be extremely touched by this gesture…and they may not say it, but I believe Carter and Declan are overwhelmed with the work that’s been put into it, too. You can be certain of that.”
Paige nodded her head toward Aimee. “You can thank this one for it.”
“Really?” Aria asked.
“No, not really,” Aimee replied. “It was Carter’s idea. I just helped with the details.”
“Yes,” Paige said, giving Aimee proper credit. “She also recruited Katherine and me, and handled getting everyone and everything else together. She just knew where all of our strengths were to pull it off.”
Aria reached over and gave Aimee’s hand a squeeze.
“Thank you,” she said. “I’m so glad that Lacey got to meet you.”
“Me too,” said Paige, turning to look out the airplane wi
ndow, misty-eyed with emotion. “Me, too…”
Carter, Declan, and Blake had returned from Hawaii one day sooner than the rest of the crew. Having taken the opportunity to explain all of the suspicions of the police to Blake, and exactly what evidence they were hoping to find, Declan used his time on the plane to have an impromptu meeting with the men regarding Marisol. As he and Blake were in close proximity to Marisol due to their working conditions, it was an excellent position to provide surveillance for Carter’s purposes without raising too much suspicion.
Upon their return, the men made a trip up to the State Police Barracks where Carter had spent most of his law enforcement career. Captain Jax had agreed to meet with him, updating him on the details of what had been, or not been, found regarding Lacey’s death.
“Thanks for meeting with me, Cap. You’ve met my brother. This is our friend, Blake Matthews,” Carter said in introduction. “If you don’t mind, I’d like them both to hear whatever news you have to tell me.”
The men shook hands, then proceeded to take a seat in the Captain’s office.
“Good to meet you, gentlemen,” he said.
The captain retrieved his glasses from their case and opened a yellow folder.
“This is what we have, Sinclair,” the older man separated the contents in front of them. “We’ve got a very grainy picture taken from a security camera. I believe you already have a copy of this.”
He turned around the photocopy for Carter’s view. Carter nodded, and the captain continued.
“They didn’t have the best security equipment,” he stated. “The images aren’t the most clear and they seem to get worse as we enlarge them.”
Carter’s face revealed that his hopes were sinking, but he stated his peace.
“I think I know this woman, Cap,” he said. “She looks familiar to all of us. That being said, I know that we need evidence to even bring her in for questioning.”
Captain Jax sank back into his chair, peering over the top of his bifocals.
“We checked the paperwork for that day, and the car, Sinclair,” he said. “It was registered to a Ms. Vencedor. Do you know anyone by that name?”
The three men exchanged glances, all shook their heads in the negative. Carter spoke for them.
“No, sir. That name doesn’t ring a bell,” he said.
The Captain sighed deeply, his frustration evident.
“Sinclair, there isn’t much I can do,” he stated. “When the car was returned, it was reported that she hit a deer. There was damage, but there was a dead deer lying in the road to corroborate her story. She had run it through the carwash, and she paid them cash for the damage to the car. They didn’t think anything of it and had the body work repaired before we discovered that the two could be connected.”
Carter’s anger flared.
“Whoever was working this case was slacking,” he said angrily. “Really, Cap? They didn’t think it was suspicious that she ran it through a wash or paid in cash for the damage? They dropped the ball.”
Taking his emotional involvement into consideration, the captain allowed Carter his comments, but defended his officers.
“If there had been a witness—any witness—we might have caught this quicker, Sinclair, but there were none. Right now, the best we have on Lacey’s case is a poor photo of a woman—possibly Ms. Vencedor—who said she hit a deer on the day that Lacey was killed, and they may be—I repeat, may be—related. That’s not a helluva lot to go on,” the Captain reminded Carter exactly what they were dealing with.
The older Sinclair brother knew better than to go head-to-head with a superior, but his frustration clouded his judgment. His body stiffened and slightly lurched forward, preparing to verbally confront the man, but Declan reached over, gripping his brother’s forearm in warning, gaining Carter’s attention as he addressed the officer.
“Thank you, Captain. It’s obvious that this is an emotional issue for all of us, especially Carter,” he said.
Rising from his chair, he outstretched his arm to shake hands with the man, lending a queue to Carter and Blake to do the same, and that this meeting had come to a conclusion. He didn’t look at Carter, who he knew was angry at his interference.
“You’re welcome,” Captain Jax said, shaking his hand and offering it to Carter and Blake as well. “If anything new comes up, I’ll contact you,” he confirmed.
As the three left the barracks, Carter spoke harshly the minute they were outside.
“Why did you interfere?” he asked, pushing at Declan’s arm, stopping him. “You should have let me handle it.”
“Yeah,” Declan responded, giving his brother a harsh look. “That looked like you were going to handle it. You were about to attack the man, and that would have gotten you nowhere, except maybe assault on an officer,” he chastised.
Declan and Blake stopped in the lot to talk some sense into him.
“Carter, there is a way that we can try to catch her—if it was her—without breaking the law,” Declan said, piquing his interest.
“How?” Carter asked.
“Get in the car. I’ll explain on the way.”
He placed his hand on Carter’s shoulder, nudging him in the direction of the car.
The next four hours were spent with the three men enterprising how Declan could use himself as bait in a scheme to dupe Marisol. Declan would play into her constant efforts to win him over as her glorified boyfriend.
At first they talked about him going so far as to sleep with her if she wanted him to, to keep her convinced, but Declan didn’t want it to go that far, especially now with Aria back in the picture. He said he’d play into Marisol’s game, but he’d come up with some excuse attached to his injury that would make it unwise for him to engage in sexual activity for a while. He knew it was a lame excuse, but it was the only limitation he put on the plan. He refused to be unfaithful to Aria. This amazed Blake, who had only known his friend as a womanizer—someone who slept with any woman who offered herself to him over the past ten years. He conceded that Aria was the one for Declan. He hoped that he’d soon see it too.
They arrived back at The Studio and decided that any future talks regarding this plan should be held in Declan’s office, where he was assured privacy.
“So you think this will work? That she might give herself up?” Carter asked, taking a drink of his coffee.
The usually peaceful atmosphere in Declan’s office was strained with the content of the sobering subject.
“What do you think, Blake?” he asked. “You know her as well as Declan does.”
Blake’s expression revealed that he thought it was possible.
“I do,” he confirmed. “I know her almost as well as Declan. If anyone can lull her into a false sense of security, he can. She’s wanted his attention for a very long time, and he hasn’t given it to her. If she suddenly thinks she’s won, then she might feel comfortable enough—or proud enough—to tell him how she accomplished it.”
He grimaced a bit, looking pained as he spoke.
“She wouldn’t think that Lacey’s important enough to leave out of the details, Carter,” he said. “She’d just be part of the bragging rights to tell Declan what she’d thought she’d accomplished.”
Declan leaned back into the worn leather of the oversized desk chair, trying to ease some of the sting from Blake’s statement.
“If I let her think that she’s starting to get to me—that I’m beginning to find that being with her is something I enjoy—then I really think she’ll let her guard down,” he said, looking at his brother. “I can slip into a conversation about you living up in the mountains, and Lacey, and a bunch of other stuff. If she’s involved, I think I can make her slip up.”
The tension and seriousness of what they were about to attempt had Carter feeling uneasy.
“I don’t know,” he said to both of them. “If she did hit Lacey with that car, what would stop her from doing something to you? Have you thought of that?” he as
ked.
“I can take care of her. Don’t worry about me,” Declan assured him. “There’s nothing she can do to hurt me…”
“Hey, Doc, how are you?” Declan asked as he entered the familiar office of Dr. Rhodes.
Declan felt like a changed person over the past few months. With Dr. Rhodes’ therapeutic assistance, he had accepted the life changes that the accident detonated in his every day existence. Although he wouldn’t have admitted it then, he had allowed that single event to nearly annihilate every relationship he valued. He felt a debt of gratitude to Jeannie for connecting him with Dr. Rhodes, and was happy that she was, once again, a part of his life. Clarity hadn’t reached every memory, but his relationships were on the mend and the nightmares he had been suffering now came with less frequency.
“What’s up, Dec? How’ve you been?” Dr. Rhodes asked in his relaxed manner.
He was a product of the seventies; very relaxed and chilled out. Dr. Rhodes reminded Declan of an old hippie. Their relationship was a comfortable one, and before becoming his patient, Dr. Rhodes had no idea who Declan was, so his fame didn’t impress him. This allowed Declan to immediately feel at ease with him.
“I’ve been good,” he reported. “I still have the nightmares, but I’m having them less and less. I guess seeing you these past few months has been helping, huh?” He grinned.
“I guess so,” the doctor said with mock insult. “That’s what you pay me for.”
At first, Declan had no idea what to expect when Jeannie had set up his appointment, but since the first time he met the doctor, their sessions seemed more like conversations, and the changes Declan felt in his every day existence, proved that they were helping.
“I’ve had some big things come up since I saw you last—I’ve been to Hawaii”—He paused. Raising his brows and puffing out his chest a bit with pride, he smiled sheepishly and added, “…and I reconnected with Aria.”
The doctor fell back into his chair for effect.
“Wow!” he said emphatically. “That’s huge, man.”