‘Rose Barros.’
‘Rose Barros. She’d like to speak with you about the suicide victim.’
Rose licked her suddenly dry lips. Suicide. It made sense that they’d leaped to that conclusion, but for some reason, it didn’t sit well with her. It was too final.
‘I’ll send her back,’ the officer said and placed the phone down before standing up.
The officer towered over Rose. She hadn’t looked that tall in her chair. ‘Come with me,’ the officer said and headed down a narrow hallway behind her desk.
Rose hastened her steps to keep up with the officer’s long stride. After passing through two key-padded doors, they arrived at a door that read ‘Chief of Police’ on the placard.
The officer knocked and stood with her hands clasped behind her back.
Rose straightened her spine, then thought better of it. She loosened her shoulders. There was no reason to be nervous about anything.
The door swung open and Rose – fully expecting to see Patrick – saw a stone-faced Shane in the doorway.
His arms were crossed in front of him. ‘You have more information?’
The female officer abandoned Rose. The rapid clicking of her shoes matched the pace of Rose’s heartbeat. She’d expected Patrick to be alone, but it made sense that Shane would be with him since he was taking over soon.
She craned her neck to peer around him. ‘Is Patrick here?’
‘Through here,’ Patrick said from inside of the room.
Rose squeezed by Shane. He moved to the side, barely letting her through the doorway.
‘Sorry to barge in without an appointment.’
‘No need to apologize,’ Patrick said, waving her over to one of the chairs in front of his desk.
Patrick’s office was simple. Rose wouldn’t think of him any other way. Two tall filing cabinets and a bookcase took up one side of the room. The only window in the room looked out onto the main road. She wondered if they saw her coming and were expecting more from her, when in fact she wanted something from them.
‘You have more information about the case?’ Shane repeated. He moved to stand in front of her, leaning up against the desk. His sunglasses perched on top of his head. She preferred them between her and his piercing gaze.
‘No.’ She sat in the chair, wondering if this was the worst idea she’d ever had. Clearing her throat, she said, ‘I wanted to know if there was any information on the girl.’
Shane and Patrick shared a look.
‘What information do you need?’ Patrick asked.
‘Are you sure it was a suicide?’ Rose asked.
Shane stood all the way up, leaning forward. ‘Do you have any reason to think otherwise?’
‘No. I – I can’t imagine what her family must be feeling.’ Rose knew loss.
Shane’s eyebrows drew together, and he tilted his head to the side as if he were a dog listening to a high-pitched whistle. Was her request that out of the ordinary?
‘That’s understandable,’ Patrick said. ‘But without a body there’s no way we can identify her.’
‘Then, potentially, she could be alive,’ Rose said.
‘She didn’t come out of the water,’ Shane said. ‘At least that was what you reported, correct?’
Rose’s heart sunk in her chest, enough that she thought her ribs were going to cave in.
‘Listen, Rose.’ Patrick got up from his chair. He rounded the desk and sat down next to her. ‘There was nothing you could do. It’s a tragedy, but you shouldn’t worry about it. If we find out anything, I’ll be sure to let you know.’
‘Is that how it works around here?’ Shane asked him.
Patrick glanced at Rose and pressed his lips into a thin line. ‘Rose is upset. We take care of our own around here.’
‘But sharing confidential information like that, to a civilian?’
Rose gritted her teeth, listening to them speak as if she wasn’t in the room.
Patrick rubbed his hands together as if he were trying to start a fire out of thin air. ‘Rose isn’t on trial here,’ Patrick said.
Shane carried on as if he hadn’t heard the chief. ‘If you know something, tell us. Otherwise, all we have to go on is your word. And right now, it looks like a suicide.’
The rush of the ocean filled her ears and the room tilted. A flash of the girl under the water filled her vision. Heat surged under her skin and tears pricked behind her eyes.
Rose stood from her chair. The legs scraped against the tile floor. ‘I’m sorry I came.’ Her fingers brushed over her eyes, wiping away her tears. If she could pick one thing she hated about herself, it would be breaking down with intense emotion.
Once she was in the hallway, she dashed toward the exit. She avoided eye contact with the female officer in the lobby and shoved through the front doors.
By the time she reached her car she was out of breath. Why was this girl affecting her so? Why couldn’t she accept that she’d committed suicide? There was nothing that told her otherwise. Rose was there. She saw the girl jump. But without the body, a shred of hope bloomed in her chest.
Where her life once made sense, now it was a jumble of questions. Was she the only one fighting for this girl? With the push back from Patrick and Shane, Rose knew she had to be careful if she wanted some answers.
And she would get them with or without their help.
The library had closed around seven o’clock that night. If the girl walked from the library to the pier, someone had to have seen her.
Rose’s skin prickled as she pulled into the parking lot for the second time in two days. It wasn’t completely for the memory of nearly mowing the girl down, but for the possibility of finding out who she was and why she thought that ending her life was more important than life itself.
The sun had started its descent in the sky, and she knew Missy would call soon. It had been some time since the two of them met up. Rose missed her friend. Seeing her at work wasn’t the same as being with her outside of The Siren. Most of their conversations revolved around Pearl. Rose’s top priority was building their friendship back up to where it used to be before Pearl had started her steep descent.
A shiver rolled down her spine as she thought of her mother. She hoped that if Mom had any lucid moments she wouldn’t accuse Rose of abandoning her in that place. Would she ever remember how much Rose tried to keep their family together? It started after Dad died. The threads between the three women left behind whittled away until they frayed and were too thin to grasp. First, Mom checked out of her life, followed by Reen’s unexpected departure.
As she entered the library, Rose’s shoulders dropped slightly. There was something about this place that made her feel more at home than her actual house. Several stone columns reached up to the two floors with elegantly curved capitals at the top. A wrought-iron railing was the only segregation between the first and second floors, giving an opportunity for those in the stacks to have access to the patrons below.
The sound of Rose’s footsteps echoed across the open space.
The openness reminded her of The Burrow as a whole, where nothing divided the citizens from each other. Which led to thin boundaries. That was why she was determined to learn all the secrets of the girl who’d jumped. She seemed to be the only one who believed there was something more to it.
There wasn’t much time to get the answers she wanted, so she didn’t waste any time heading over to the circulation desk at the center of the main lobby.
The librarian, Mrs. Henshaw, glanced up at her. A smile pulled at the wrinkles around her mouth. She dropped her pink-rimmed glasses to her chest, and they hung there, held up by a thin-corded rope around her neck.
‘Back so soon?’ Mrs. Henshaw asked.
Since Rose started coming to the library, Mrs. Henshaw hadn’t aged a day.
Rose leaned against the top of the desk, picking at her cuticles. How was she going to start this conversation?
Mrs. Henshaw was a stickler for th
e library hours, and she’d close shop soon. ‘I wanted to ask if you heard about that young girl who jumped off the pier last night.’
The librarian clicked her tongue. ‘A tragedy.’
Rose’s ears perked up. ‘She was last seen in front of the library. Yesterday afternoon.’ She didn’t want to implicate herself more than necessary, so she left out the important detail that she was the one who’d seen her.
‘Oh, dear.’
‘You didn’t see her?’
‘No. But I would have remembered a new face.’
Rose glanced behind her, wondering if any of the volunteers had seen the girl. The children’s section was on the same side as the parking lot. Someone had to have seen something through the wide front windows.
‘Why do you ask?’ Mrs. Henshaw said, cutting through Rose’s thoughts.
There was no way she could answer that question honestly without explaining her strange obsession with the girl. ‘No reason.’ She cleared her throat and the tremble in her voice. ‘Curiosity, I guess.’
Mrs. Henshaw bobbed her head. ‘There are plenty of other places to do such a thing. I’m glad she wasn’t one of our own.’
Rose’s breath hitched in her throat, catching for a moment before she was able to release it. Like at the precinct, she’d asked the wrong question. If she knew why the girl came to The Burrow, then Rose would be able to track that back to who she was. The wide-eyed girl flashed in her mind again, wandering around the town before taking her life. What happened that forced her into that decision?
‘Well, I need to start closing up,’ Mrs. Henshaw said. ‘Can I help you find something?’
‘No,’ Rose said. ‘I was going to return something, but I forgot and left the book at home.’
Mrs. Henshaw pressed her lips together. She reached over and patted Rose on the arm. ‘It will get better, dear.’
Rose slowly turned away from the woman, her eyebrows knitting together.
It wasn’t until she reached the car that she realized what Mrs. Henshaw had implied. While every cell in her body wanted to rush back and tell the woman that she wasn’t losing her memory, she thought better of it. It was easier for her to think that Rose was losing her mind like Pearl, instead of knowing that she was on a hunt to find a dead girl and any clue to the girl’s past.
Chapter 4
Rose had Fridays off. It was the one day that Missy forced her to take time for herself to ensure that she didn’t burn out by working so much.
Usually, Rose found a way to make it back to The Siren to help with deliveries or whatnot, but now she had something to do. With the entire day ahead of her, she could do her own investigating.
Missy’s visit the night before wasn’t the most productive of meet-ups. A flurry of questions and possibilities moved through Rose’s mind quicker than she could grab them. But catching up with her friend outside of work gave her the drive she needed to complete her investigation. The sooner she got over all of this, the sooner she could get back to her real life.
Rose wondered what the girl’s friends and family thought of her going missing. Rose was the only one who knew what the girl looked like. At least that was what she thought. She had to know for sure.
Pearl was first on her list for the day. After she visited, Rose already had a map in mind for her route through town to get the answers she needed. The longer she waited, the shorter everyone’s memory of the girl would be. Her stomach flip-flopped as she walked out the door and down the steps toward the driveway. For once, purpose filled her mind and heart, and she knew, deep down, that she’d succeed.
The parade kicking off the annual Mermaid Festival started around noon. The local shops would get busier as the day progressed, filling up with tourists and townies alike dressed in scaled shirts and pants, and with colorful hair and makeup.
She hadn’t dressed up in years, but she and Pearl used to love walking the streets and commenting on the more creative types that filled their town for the weekend.
Since most of the traffic was coming into town, Rose arrived at the Whinding House without any issues. She’d come later in the morning, not wanting to interrupt breakfast since she wanted Pearl to eat as much as possible. Mom had been a fit and lithe woman even though she always cleared her plate. Rose and Reen were the same way. From a young age, no matter how much they ate, they remained in decent shape. She guessed the amount of swimming they did as children boosted their metabolism long term. After she stopped swimming, Rose took up land sports – soccer, and softball – to keep up her stamina and stay away from her house and the ocean as much as possible.
The sun shone brightly that morning, and it was shaping up to be a beautiful weekend. So it made sense that the halls and rooms were clear when she arrived. There were always activities after breakfast, mostly to get the residents moving. Well, those able to walk.
When the Victorian had been a private residence, the owners chose part of the property for a garden. The Whinding House kept up the gardens as well as having the more able residents help tend it.
The residents were closer to the gardens when Rose met up with them. The shambling crew, sandwiched between a mix of four nurses and CNAs, walked along the path toward the bright-colored clumps of flowers.
Rose spotted Pearl right away. Mom’s hair moved across her slightly hunched back, swaying back and forth as she shuffled down the path.
Lifting her chin, Rose started forward. With each step, she held firm to her growing emotions.
This is the perfect place for her. She’s safe.
Jessie caught Rose’s eye and waved her over. She walked at the rear of the group, closest to Pearl. Mom didn’t have issues walking, but since arriving at The Cottage, her gait had slowed enough that she’d started to resemble the rest of the residents.
That didn’t help the aching in her chest every time she saw Pearl.
‘Good morning, Rose,’ Jessie said a little too loudly. She winked at Rose and walked to Pearl. ‘Pearl, you have a visitor.’
Mom lifted her gaze to Jessie and then lowered it once more.
Rose walked on the outside of the group, careful not to jostle anyone.
Jessie gently patted Mom’s arm. ‘How about you two catch up over there?’
Toward the edge of the property, where the grade flattened out, there were several tables and chairs for the residents to enjoy. Even though there was a chain-link fence in the distance to prevent wandering, the ocean view stretched out in front of them.
Pearl muttered something to herself as Jessie led her away from the group. The rest of them continued down the path.
Rose’s skin prickled as she approached the table. Averting her gaze, she sat down as Jessie helped Pearl into the seat next to her.
Jessie glanced toward the group. ‘Are you good here?’
‘Yes,’ Rose said, a little too harshly. She’d cared for her mother for years, why would this girl think she couldn’t handle it?
Jessie clasped her hands together. ‘Great. I’ll be back soon.’
Pearl remained absent during the conversation. Her eyes were far away, staring blankly at the ocean beyond. It was a stare that Rose had become accustomed to over the last few years, growing more distant in the past months.
‘Pearl, how are you?’ Rose asked, touching Pearl’s uninjured wrist. Beige-colored medical tape wrapped around the other.
Pearl didn’t acknowledge her presence at all.
Rose clamped down on her lip, biting into the thin skin. ‘The weather is wonderful today. It would be a lovely day for a swim.’
The glossy stare turned to her. A smile pulled at Rose’s lips. Her trick had worked. Referring to the ocean always brought Mom back to her. She had no idea why. It came to her by accident one day. Maybe it was the reference to where they lived or the fact that she’d loved the water ever since she was a kid. All Rose knew was that it worked.
‘Sth-reen,’ Pearl mumbled as her shaky hand moved to her neck. Her long fingers bounced u
p and down as if she were searching for something.
Rose leaned in close. ‘What was that?’
Mom’s eyes closed hard as if she were wincing in pain.
‘What’s wrong?’ Rose glanced at the gardens. The nurses and residents milled around. Jessie might hear her if she called loud enough.
‘Pearl,’ Mom said.
‘Yes. You’re Pearl.’
‘Pearl,’ Mom said, slowing down the name as if she were trying to taste it.
A surge of adrenaline coursed through her veins. Rose sat on the edge of her seat, reaching for Mom’s hands.
Instead of holding them, Pearl snatched them back and then placed them around her neck again, as if she were about to strangle herself.
‘Syrene,’ she said, clear as day.
A tingling sensation bloomed in Rose’s chest. Syrene. Reen. Did Mom remember her?
‘Your daughter,’ Rose said. ‘You remember her?’
‘Syrene. Pearl.’ Mom reached up and stroked her fingers down the length of her hair. ‘Water.’
Mom spoke clearer than she had in months. Reen hadn’t graced The Burrow with her presence in years. Rose tried to swallow through the ache in the back of her throat, but she strained with effort, nearly choking on her spit.
The opportunity presented itself, so Rose took it. ‘Tell me more.’
Mom sighed deeply, the air seeming to come from the bottom of her lungs. It was as if she hadn’t released a breath in minutes.
‘Mom,’ Rose said, not caring that she wasn’t supposed to upset Pearl. To hell with that – she’d spoken of Reen instead of the person who’d taken care of her for years. Screw the rules; she wanted answers.
Pearl blinked, and then the clouds rolled in again. The movement of her hands over her long strands stopped, and they fell to her lap, one on top of the other. Her shoulders slumped, and she went away again, back into the recesses of her mind.
That was where she kept the important people in her life.
‘Pearl? Mom?’
Pearl swallowed a few times and then looked out at the ocean. Her lashes fluttered before a single tear rolled down her cheek.
The Sisters' Secrets: Rose Page 4
