by Deborah Noel
I realized no one knew of Mattie, except my close-knit circle of trustees.
I loved Declan more now than I had ever thought possible. I knew we would be together again. One day and forever.
With a new vision of life and more love in my heart than I dreamed of, I agreed to consult with Sam. He stayed the night. I made him some of my “World’s Best Chili” and we bonded some more over dinner.
Afterwards he felt asleep to the news on the TV. I put a blanket over him, and then went upstairs. I was surprised when Bullet followed me. He took his usual spot on the bed between me and the door. He wanted to be first to greet anyone who came through it.
For the first time in years, I slept a dreamless sleep.
Chapter Three
I woke easily from the most restful of slumber. Bullet was not in bed with me, I could only assume he was downstairs with Sam.
I got out of bed and put my robe on. I walked over to the window. It had snowed overnight, about four inches, coating everything shiny white. The dried brown mums in the garden seemed to glisten with renewed life as their snow covered tips swayed in the breeze. It seemed as though peace had a strong presence in winter’s world and now in my soul.
“Wow, this is what it feels like,” I whispered happily to no one.
I hadn’t realized the tension that I created in the house until this morning. It was as if magical fairies had been there overnight scrubbing it away before dawn. I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. There was nothing but tranquility.
The scent of bacon cooking downstairs made its way up into my room.
It was time to start my day. I put on my favorite pair of jeans and the sea-green zip-up fleece sweater Mattie had picked out for me last winter over top of a black tank top. In the bathroom I brushed my teeth and combed my hair, leaving it au natural. I went to join Sam downstairs.
He was just coming in the sliding glass doors as I entered the kitchen. Bullet followed at his heels. He stopped in his tracks when he saw me. His face twisted.
I ran my fingers through my hair and checked my teeth with my tongue to make sure I didn’t have something in them and looked down at my wardrobe to make sure everything was in its proper place. When I could find nothing out of place, I asked, “What’s wrong, Uncle?”
A smile lifted his eyes and the corners of his lips. “Nothing. I forgot how so much more beautiful you are when you smile. You look like your mother.”
My mother. Just after I was married, an accident with a hit and run drunk driver stole her from a family that loved her dearly. It was the beginning of the end of our close-knit circle.
My father turned away from life. He felt his life was nothing without her. He knew he should have been there for my two sisters and me, but he had no heart left to give, he was empty of all feelings without my mother. He up and left. I hadn’t heard anything more of him since. I don’t know if he was alive or dead. I tracked leads over the years, but nothing substantial ever came to be. Like the murders, it was a cold case.
My sisters and I were old enough and had already begun our own lives. I was the only one left living in the house with my father. When he disappeared, I was alone. I stayed in the house until Declan and I bought this one. I never sold the family home. Declan occupied it now.
My mother’s death was what began my career as a crime scene investigator; my father’s disappearance is what made me add the detective edge to it.
The police weren’t doing a good enough job for me in the investigation of my mother’s death. They were overlooking details, not following up on leads. The drunk driver was eluding them. I called Sam at a point of utter frustration. He made all the contacts for me; put me in the right direction for the education I needed to achieve to make team. He pulled strings at the bureau and got me my job in his jurisdiction. He attended my graduation and my appointment to the department.
I was the youngest, at 20, to be in the position I was. By the age of 23, I walked away from my last murder scene, the one that haunted me most at night. Now, having just turned 29, I was a stay-at-home mom living off of the inheritance from my mother’s death and the support of Declan, who refused to have it any other way.
I joined Sam at the breakfast bar. From the other side, he piled my plate with eggs, bacon, French toast and scrapple. He had already poured me an orange juice and milk. He had a bowl of scraps aside cooling for Bullet and fixed himself a plate after serving me. He placed his food next to where I was sitting and turned down all the burners and came around the counter to sit next to me.
I inhaled deeply.
“Ummmm, Uncle Sam, I could get used to this.” I said.
He winked, “Your choice.”
We both laughed. As we feasted, we made small talk between of all the chewing and swallowing going on. Bullet sat not so patiently at our feet, waiting for his share of the goods. It was like old times, when I first began working with Sam, only eight short years ago.
We debated over what Declan’s response would be to the plan we had agreed upon. In the end we both agreed that he would be tickled pink over the idea. I knew he would be elated at renewing our relationship. It was all that he had wanted, all that he asked for the last five years.
I couldn’t wait to see his face.
I admitted to Sam that I was apprehensive about tracking down my sister Kelsey. I knew it would be simple enough; after all, she was my twin. I knew her thought processes. I knew her dreams, wishes, her likes and dislikes. And above all, I knew the truth–my strongest weapon.
After the breakfast dishes were cleaned and the kitchen was restored to order, Sam went out to his SUV to retrieve the boxes he brought containing the files he wanted me to review.
For hours we pondered over reports, pictures, notes and interviews of four murders. I dug deep in my memory to compare the new with the old. Papers and pictures were scattered across the breakfast bar, the oak rectangular dining table and the countertops. Each murder scene had its own area, with Sam and I walking back and forth between them, revealing details that each of us saw.
I stood between the island and the counter and sighed while unconsciously twisting my hair into a ponytail. “I need to make my own notes Sam. I’ll be right back.”
I dashed upstairs to the room I kept as an office. It had been a long time since I had stepped through the doorway, other than to just dust and run the vacuum.
I went to the closet and pulled open the doors. A cedar smell escaped from within. Back in the corner to the right was my kit. I grabbed the straps and unburied it from its home. I hadn’t touched it since the day I put it there a long time ago. I slung it over my shoulder, as I headed back to downstairs. I couldn’t believe how easy it was to wrap my mind back around this type of work. It came so naturally to me. And if I was honest with myself, I really did enjoy it.
Sam was standing at the glass French doors when I returned packing a pack of cigarettes. I put the shoulder bag on the floor and went outside with Sam while he smoked his cigarette.
“I missed this, Cianna,” Sam admitted to me.
“Honestly, Sam, I didn’t realize how much I did too.”
We made idle chit-chat while Sam puffed away and Bullet did his business.
When we returned inside, Sam went to throw a log in the wood-burning stove in the family room while I went to work going through each file taking my own notes.
I read and re-read the reports. I studied each picture with a magnifying glass. I meticulously and methodically read the scene notes taken by the CSI and the responding officers that were there. I scribbled in my notebook like crazy. I was so into my zone, that when Sam’s cell phone rang, I jumped out of my skin. He chuckled and took the call in the other room.
After I finished with each file, I put everything back in its folder and stacked the folders on the kitchen table. Sam kept himself busy by keeping the fire going and entertaining Bullet. I almost forgot he was there. The day had gone by so quickly.
Finally, I closed the
last file folder and put it on top of the pile. I sat back in the chair and stretched. It was after six in the evening. I closed my eyes to try and put my thoughts in perspective, all the while tapping my pen on the top of the table.
I must have fallen asleep. I was woken by a loud crack of a log popping in the fireplace. I was on the sofa in the family room, covered in with a throw blanket. It was dark outside.
Sam.
Bullet was curled around my feet. The lights were dim. I lay there for a minute trying to get a grasp as to what time it was. Startled, I jumped up and ran to the kitchen, clearing the small set of stairs. It was after 7:00.
A throat cleared from behind me where I just came. I froze; I hadn’t remembered seeing Sam in the family room.
“Ummmmm, I forgot how beautiful you are when you sleep.” The voice called up to me.
I knew the rough edge to the poetic, soft voice.
I slowly turned around. I held my breath and my heart skipped a few beats.
“Worried you missed seeing me?”
“No.” I lied.
The laughter was unmistakable. The corners of my lips curled with its contagiousness.
“You never were a good liar, Cianna.”
I took a step down. Then another. At first glance around the dimly lit room there seemed to be no one there. But I knew better.
In the dark corner where the rocking chair sat near the sofa where I had been sleeping he gently rocked back and forth.
“You were arguing with yourself in your sleep.”
I smiled, but didn’t move closer.
“Ah, there it is. My favorite sight in the whole world.”
I blushed.
“And my next favorite sight, the crimson moving across your cheeks.”
He stood up.
I couldn’t help myself. Before I knew it I was across the room and in my most favorite place in the world over, his arms.
“Declan.” I barely whispered.
Chapter Four
He embraced me tighter as if to pull me inside of his own skin. “I have waited a long time for this.”
“I know. I’m sorry…”
He covered my lips with the tips of his fingers and buried his lips in my hair. “No apologies.”
I pulled away and looked into his eyes.
He saw the worry in them. “At Marcy’s for the night. Sam thought it best so we could talk.”
He turned his head to the side like Bullet did when you asked him if he wanted to go for a ride. “You know, we have a very smart daughter. Do you know what she said to me on the way here today?”
I grinned, shaking my head no.
“And I quote, ’Daddy’, she began, ‘now when we get home, don’t leave right away. Mommy still loves you and you can sleep over tonight and tomorrow night too.’ What could I say to that?”
We laughed together.
Without letting go of me, Declan guided me to the kitchen. On the bar was a single white rose with tips of red propped in a vase, my favorite. Two plates each holding a slice of pizza were on placemats.
“Sam said you hadn’t eaten since breakfast this morning. I figured you would need to recharge.”
He pulled out the stool for me to sit on and went to the cabinets to get two glasses. He put them on the counter.
“Soda, I presume?”
I nodded. I was still in a fog over Declan’s arrival and what Mattie had told him. I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face. It was on my lips, in my eyes and beating through my heart.
He handed me a glass and took his place next to me.
We made very small talk while eating. When I was finished with the first slice, he had another waiting to replace it. But the pizza wasn’t addressing the hunger growing inside of me.
“Declan, how will this work?” I finally asked.
He just smiled, “Ah, back to this question? You asked me this earlier, my love, don’t you remember?”
I wrinkled my eyebrows together in confusion. He only laughed at me.
“While you were sleeping,” he answered.
I understood.
“Declan,” I started, “Please understand that…”
This time he quieted me with a kiss. The surprise stunned me. The quench of thirst was more satisfying then if I had been a man living 50 years in the desert who finally found water. Giving into all my confusion, fears, desires and truth of love, I topped the urgency in Declan’s kiss. I was finally free of the chains that bound me.
It was amazing what a kiss full of true love can do to someone. The swell of freedom we both shared in this one kiss was unlike anything in the universe.
Overwhelmed, tears flowed freely from my closed eyes. Declan embraced me. I ran my fingers through the short curls at the back of his neck and knotted them there. His arms and hands held me close like a seatbelt across my back, securing me in my proper place. I was pinned against the counter. We were between the stools. It was the best place I had been in a long, long time.
He broke his body away first. Keeping his forehead against mine and our noses touching, he lingered. I moved my hand to push his lips back to mine from the back of his head, but he arched his neck to stop it from happening.
I opened my eyes to look into his. They were so close I couldn’t get them into focus. We didn’t break the embrace. It seemed if time had disappeared and we were all that was left.
“There is much to do,” he was barely audible.
I blinked once.
“Lots of planning,” he said no louder than before.
I blinked again.
He pulled back from our embrace and smiled wildly. “Really?” he asked in the same tone.
I slowly closed my eyes and opened them again.
A single tear fell from his eye. I caught it halfway down his cheek with my finger.
“The walls are gone, Declan,” I winked. “You are officially allowed back in.”
“A chuisle (a kwish-la),” his Gaelic native language filled my brain.
My love.
I replied in Gaelic out loud, “Is tu mo grha (iss two muh guhraw), Declan.”
I love you.
I pulled out of the embrace that seemed to go on forever. I looked at him and scolded, “Just don’t go filling up my mind with your voice all the time, I need room for my thoughts too.”
He winked, “Tuigim go maith.” This time he spoke in his audible voice. “I quite understand. I’ve wished for this for a long time, Cianna. I won’t do a thing that would take it away again. I never want to leave.”
“I know, Declan. I’ve heard you ask before. I just put up more bricks to the wall. There’s so much to do. Declan, do you think we can do this? Do you really think it can work?”
He scooped me into his arms, “There’s plenty of time to sort out details. Cianna, I won’t be able to concentrate on all that just yet. I want you.” He kissed me again.
“Now,” he begged in my head this time.
I blinked once in submission.
In a flash we were in the family room. The lamp wobbled in the aftermath of our hurriedness. We fell against the sofa already tangled in each other’s limbs. This was way beyond tenderness, although he always was with me. The need was animalistic. The lust untamed. The want was undeniable.
I opened my eyes for a second, only to see Bullet hovering over us, standing on the back of the sofa. He was checking to make sure I was okay. Satisfied I was not in danger, he jumped down and curled up in front of the fire.
Eager to enter my most favorite realm, I unbuttoned Declan’s shirt and ran my fingertips along his bare skin. He trembled.
He was calmer than me. He ran his hands up, hugging the curves of my sides. He grazed his fingers along my neck and down my throat. He let loose a low growl, which sent bolts of electricity down my spine. He took the zipper of my sweatshirt and began to move it slowly down. He sighed at my tank top. They were both on the floor before I could offer help in their removal.
He purred as he touche
d my bare flesh, as if he was afraid this wasn’t really happening.
“I’ve dreamed of this every night,” his voice surged through my mind.
“It’s real, Declan. Go siorai,” I whispered in his ear. “Forever!”
We were united again. Together in body, mind and soul. It felt so right. All of my fears and anxieties were silenced. My heart was at peace. We laid entwined on the sofa, tired and satisfied.
The room was in disarray from our passion. I had neither strength nor desire to get up and straighten it up. Besides, it was just Declan and I here. I ignored my OCD to clean immediately.
When I awoke, again, I was on the couch under a throw blanket, the fire was burning warm. It was still dark and I was alone. I looked around the family room; everything was in its place, all neat and tidy. Had I dreamed the whole thing?
I heard a low chuckle.
“You have such a twisted face when you get worried, confused and anxious all at once,” Declan’s voice entered my mind.
My lips twisted into a smile.
“There is much work to be done, and since the interruptions are finished, shall we get to work?” I asked him.
He was in front of me, helping me to my feet. He handed me my sweatpants and tank top, his eyes wild with passion and a smirk on his face. He winked at me.
I threw on my clothes and headed to the kitchen. It was just after 10 p.m.
Chapter Five
“I went through the piles and your notes while you were sleeping,” he explained to me. “Very impressive. Why do you think there was more than one murderer?”
“Simple, silly,” I answered, tussling his hair. I walked to the refrigerator to grab a soda, making him wait for an explanation.
“Differences in the aftermath of the violence. The first string of six was pure destruction. Like wild animals hunting and feasting, with no regard or remorse. Except for the first murder I investigated. That one doesn’t belong with the next five. The first one was someone leaving a message to someone. Penalty for wrongdoing. The other five – just gruesome, as far as I can figure. But still they, too, had a message. Well, at least I believe they did. The three that Sam asked me to look at in his neighboring town, they weren’t as gory, and they were more thought out. More organized.”