by Casi McLean
A sudden breeze swept around Emily, and she could almost feel Alyssa’s presence as if a soft, warm breath of calmness swaddled her, cloaking her from the fear and worry consuming her, soothing the panic. “Alyssa?” The whisper escaped before she thought better of it…and yet, she still somehow sensed her sister’s presence. She spun.
“You’re off your game, sis.” Wyatt smiled. “I haven’t snuck up on you since you were a kid.”
Seeing her brother standing in front of her, she couldn’t resist the urge to run across the deck into his open arms, only briefly glancing at the two men in uniforms standing behind him. “Oh, Wyatt.” She closed her eyes and hugged him in a desperate embrace.
Returning her hug, he held her for several moments before easing her backward. His hands squared her shoulders as he peered into her tearful green eyes. “You know, don’t you? How?”
Emily squinted, gazing at him for a long moment before peering beyond at the two police officers still standing in the doorway…her worst fears hardened into gut-wrenching grief that slithered around her and squeezed until she couldn’t breathe. A whirl of dizziness flushed through her, and she felt the blood drain from her face. “Nooooooo.” She shrieked and fell into Wyatt’s arms.
He lifted her and carried her into the great room. “I know this is an awful blow, Em. That’s why I insisted on being here when they came to inform you.” He patted her back then rubbed with a circular motion. “Cry now. Get it all out, because we have a lot of work ahead.”
Emily wiped her already swollen eyes and sniffed. Chest still tight, she stared at Wyatt, then at the officers. “How did she die? I have to know exactly what happened.”
“Officer Kendrick, ma’am.” He touched the rim of his hat. “I wish we had answers. All we know is your sister is deceased. The Metro DC police called her death a homicide, and they’re requesting a family member to identify her body.”
Emily glared at the officer and gulped to relieve the burning in her throat. “Are you saying Alyssa was murdered?”
“Yes, ma’am. I’m sorry for your loss.”
Her scowl shifted to Wyatt. “Who would want to kill Alyssa? She was the sweetest, kindest––”
“Emily, don’t torture yourself.” Wyatt gripped her shoulder. “We’ll get through this tragedy, I promise.”
“Dear God.” She shook her head. “Do Mom and Dad know yet?”
“No. Apparently, Alyssa named me as her next of kin.” He drew in a long breath then exhaled with a whoosh. “These officers stopped by my place first and were headed your way. When we walked in, I swear you looked like you already knew.” He lowered his voice. “Another one of your visions?”
Tears flowing, she nodded. “I didn’t want to believe what my heart told me.” She brushed away the dampness on her cheeks. “Do we need to fly to Huntington to tell Mom and Dad?”
“We can both go to West Virginia if you want, but one of us needs to go to DC sooner rather than later.” Wyatt tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Why don’t you go to Huntington, and I’ll fly to DC to identify…uh…tend to Alyssa? You can meet me in a few days.”
A shiver ran down her back, chilling her hands and feet. “No. You go calm the folks. You’re much better at that than I am. Besides, I need to go to Lyssa. She’d want me there.”
Wyatt stood and offered a hand to the officers. “I think we can take the arrangements from here. Thanks for indulging me by allowing me to accompany you.”
They shook his hand in turn.
“Sorry for your loss, sir…ma’am.”
The other officer nodded.
Following them to the door, Wyatt closed it behind them. “You okay, sis? I mean, do you want me to stay with you tonight?”
Emily shook her head. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be okay again.” She ran fingers through her hair then stood. Ambling into the kitchen, she felt empty inside. “Can I get you something to drink?”
“No. I’m good.” Wyatt followed. “Can I borrow your phone? I need to make flight and hotel reservations.”
Emily flipped on the faucet, splashed water on her face then patted dry the excess with a paper towel. “Sure.” She tilted her head toward the table. “My phone is right there. We’ll need to make funeral arrangements, too, but where? Here, West Virginia, or DC?” She slammed her fist on the counter. “Damn it, Wyatt. We shouldn’t have to make funeral arrangements for Lyssa. She was only twenty-eight, for God’s sake. Why?”
He strode toward her then pulled her into another hug. “I don’t know why bad things happen to good people.” He drew back and looked into her eyes. “If you need to take a day or two, no one would fault you. Come with me to see the folks.”
Swirling with unfettered emotion, she knew Alyssa would want her close. Her body stiffened. “Thanks, Wyatt, but no. I want to leave as soon as possible for Washington. See if you can get me reservations tonight.” She tossed the paper towel into the trash. “Get the first flight out that will fit with our timing. I need to shower and pack then I’ll take you home. After I drop you off, I’ll drive straight to Hartsfield-Jackson.”
“If I can work things out, how ‘bout I join you? We’ll stop by my place so I can grab a suitcase and my phone then head to the airport. I’ll take a flight to Huntington and talk to the folks then meet you in DC on Thursday. Fair enough?”
Emily forced a smile. “That’s fine. Do you know where she is? I mean, I’ll need to talk to the police first, I suppose…then the morgue.”
Wyatt reached into his pocket and drew out a folded note. “Here, I wrote down the detective’s name and precinct along with his phone number.”
“Keep it until I pull my things together.” She turned and walked to the bedroom then closed the door behind her. Again, the anomalous warmth encircled her, casting out her grief with a sense of calm.
Emily led a selfless life, putting others before herself. She never hurt a soul and would shoo a bug outside before stepping on one. To take any life rubbed against the fabric of everything she held dear…but something broke inside with Alyssa’s death, as if a mask guarding her heart unveiled, baring her soul to an icy shard of vengeance that pierced her heart. She closed her eyes, feeling her sister’s presence. Alyssa… “I promise I’ll find who did this to you…why they murdered you…and then…I’ll kill them.”
Chapter Five
By the time Emily and Wyatt arrived at Hartsfield-Jackson, it was 9:30 p.m. They checked in at a kiosk then shuffled through security. Happy Wyatt’s flight to West Virginia allowed enough time for him to accompany and sit with her until she boarded the plane to Washington, Emily wanted to lean on him for moral support, but the innate need for her sister choked the emotion from manifesting into intelligible sentences.
She didn’t utter a word during the hike through the massive international airport. Usually her investigative journalism skills afforded her the ability to compartmentalize horrific crime scenes and grisly murders that crept into her work. But imagining Alyssa in one of those awful scenarios pierced her heart. Until she made sense of what happened, there were no words to soothe her shattered world. She felt disjointed from the robotic actions she carried out, while her thoughts replayed an endless loop hyper-focused on Alyssa.
Once she and Wyatt arrived at the gate, Emily sat in silence, feigning interest in the music streaming from her headset. She understood his need to console her, but she couldn’t talk. She couldn’t reflect on the good times. She wanted Alyssa, and no amount of comforting could bring back her sister.
Wyatt tapped on her earpiece. “Em, I don’t want to leave you like this. Please, talk to me.”
“What can we say that could possibly take our minds off the obvious?” Emily took her brother’s hand. “I know you’re worried about me.” Her gaze lowered to the floor. “Right now, I’m not fine, but I will be…eventually. I just feel completely helpless.” She lifted her chin and stared into his eyes. “Once I get to Washington and find out more details from the detect
ive, I’ll be busy figuring out how and why Alyssa died. For now, I need to deal with her death in my own way. You’ll meet me the day after tomorrow. We’ll have plenty of time to talk then.”
He raised a brow. “You promise you’ll call me if anything gets to be too much for you?”
“Of course.” She forced a smile. “We’re in this together. And speaking of calling, once you break the news to Mom and Dad, text me when you think they’re able to talk so I can check on them.”
“Will do.” He reached into his pocket and drew out a folded note then handed her the paper. “I made reservations for you at the Key Bridge Marriott in Rosslyn, VA. I figured it’s about halfway between McLean and DC. I added the address and phone number to the note with the detective’s name and address.”
Emily accepted the paper then stuffed the note into the front pocket of her purse. “Thanks, Wyatt. You thought of everything.”
He smiled. “I made reservations for the room adjoining yours. The hotel is an easy drive from Ronald Reagan National Airport. I already rented a car. It’ll be waiting in the rental lot when you land. I plan on driving to Charleston after I talk to Mom and Dad so I can catch the earliest flight possible. I land at 6:14 a.m. Thursday, which is too early for you to pick me up at the airport, so I’ll catch a quick cab ride to the hotel.”
“Delta Flight 2612 to Washington D.C. Regan National Airport is now boarding at gate T7…”
“That’s me, Wyatt.” Emily drew in a deep breath and stood. She hated flying. Sitting in those cramped seats squeezed between perfect strangers and making small talk held no interest to her under normal circumstances…and nothing about tonight came close to normal. She dreaded the next few hours, but not as much as the tasks ahead. Gazing at Wyatt, she wondered how he remained stoic under pressure. War changes people. “See you on Thursday. Be safe and call me…I love you.”
He gave her a hug. “I love you too, kiddo.” Hands on her shoulders, he stepped back and met her gaze. “I’ve got my phone now” ––he dug into his jacket pocket then showed her the proof––“so stay in touch. I want to know everything you find out. See you soon?”
She nodded, gave him a kiss on his cheek then turned to find the appropriate line to board. Once on the plane, Emily drew out her headphones, stuffed her small carry-on into the baggage compartment above then squeezed into her window seat. The 10:05 p.m. flight was scheduled to arrive in Washington DC at 11:50 p.m. She didn’t expect to sleep, but with any luck, the music would lull her into a semi-conscious doze. Closing her eyes, she rested her head on the high-back seat and let the music lull her into soothing serenity.
“Miss Rose?” The flight attendant lightly touched Emily’s shoulder.
Startled, she sat upright and yanked off her headphones. “Yes?”
“I’m sorry, Miss Rose. I hate to wake you, but we’re in Washington D.C. and the other passengers have disembarked, ma’am.”
Amazed she managed to sleep through the takeoff and landing, Emily glanced around the empty cabin. “Oh…I…I’m sorry.” She stared at her watch with blurry eyes. 12:15 a.m. She stood and ducked under the baggage compartment to the aisle.
“I took the liberty of retrieving your carry-on.” The attendant tilted his head toward an adjacent seat.
“Thank you.” She grabbed her purse and bag then exited the airplane.
Arriving at the Marriott after 1:00 a.m., she glanced around the silent lobby. Emily checked in, snatched her key from the desk then took the elevator up to the 7th floor. The moment she entered the room, she tossed her purse and bag onto the first double bed, kicked off her shoes, dropped her jeans, and yanked off her T-shirt then slipped under the comforter and sheets. Thoughts now reeling, she drifted in and out of a restless sleep.
Her smartphone sounding awakened her, and she reluctantly answered. “Hello.”
“Miss Rose?” He didn’t wait for her reply. “This is Detective Ashton Frazier, of the Washington DC Metro Police. I'm calling about your sister, Alyssa.”
The statement hit her like a ton of bricks, and she sat up rigid in bed. One hand on her pounding head, she held the phone to her ear with the other then glanced at the bedside clock, 8:02 a.m. “Yes, I’m sorry, Detective. I’m here.”
The man cleared his throat. “I understand your local police contacted you last night regarding your sister?”
Emily threw off the comforter and ambled toward the drapes. “Yes, detective. I planned to contact you this morning.” She crooked her finger and edged aside the curtain enough to peek outside, expecting to see the dismal day her mood warranted, but instead, an azure blue sky greeted her.
“I’m very sorry for your loss. I know the news is a terrible shock. I’d be happy to pick you up at the airport when your flight lands.”
Squinting at the bright sunshine streaming into the room as she opened the curtains, she turned and wandered toward the dresser. “That won’t be necessary. I arrived late last night. I do want to talk, though. Would you have time this morning? I’m staying at the Key Bridge Marriott, but I rented a car so I could come to you, or you’re welcome to meet me here.” She glanced at the mirror and barely recognized herself. Her eyes, swollen and puffy with dark circle crescents shadowed beneath, hid under a mop of scraggly morning hair. She shook her head then raked her fingers through the strands, halting at her crown, where she squeezed to release the pulsating throbs.
“I’d be happy to come to the Marriott. We can talk there, but I will need you to accompany me to the coroner to ID the…uh…” He paused a long beat. “We’d like you to confirm your sister’s identity.”
A spew of bile burned into her throat, and she coughed to clear her throat. “Of course. I…I need to grab a shower and should probably eat something.” Her gaze dropped to a breakfast bar flyer on the bureau. “I understand the restaurant downstairs serves a nice buffet…if you’d like to join me for breakfast say in about a half hour?” Thirty minutes would at least give her time to clean up and do something about the dark circles puffing under her eyes.
“I’ll be there. How will I recognize you?”
Visualizing the clothes she threw into her suitcase only hours ago, she barely remembered the contents. “Jeans and uh” ––glancing at her tablet on the desk gave her an identifying description––“Just look for a brunette using an iPad in a turquoise case.” Confident the chances of more than one single woman with a bright-blue cover would be slim. “I’ll see you then.” She pressed End before the man had a chance to say goodbye.
After turning on the shower, she rummaged through her clothes and chose a long-sleeved black shirt. Most of the items she packed were dark. Likely keeping in tone with her mood. Alyssa would have hated that. Rarely had a frown washed over her face…and had she ever owned a simple black dress? Emily couldn’t recall.
Robotically, she laid out her clothes, disrobed from the bra and panties she slept in then stepped into the warm spray. As the water soothed her, again she felt the presence of Alyssa, but this time, Emily could no longer restrain the pressure building inside. Silent tears burst to the surface but disappeared into the warm cascade swathing her body. She stared as a puddle formed beneath her feet then whirled into the drain. That’s where her tears would stay, hidden from the world. She had to be strong now…strong enough for both of them. Alyssa was part of Emily and would always live in her heart.
After dressing in silence and dabbing on makeup to hide the swelling around her tear-stained eyes, she drew her hair into a ponytail, took a long breath and strode toward the elevator. Her investigative reporter façade slid into place. This murder would not be shoved into cold case files. If Emily had to use every probing skill she possessed, she would…and more if need be. She’d stop at nothing to bring this killer to justice.
Chapter Six
Heavy fog covering the city earlier had lifted, but despite the forecast calling for sun, the front still hung low along the Potomac River. Ash crossed the Francis Scott Key Bridge then drov
e over the George Washington Parkway onto Fort Meyer Drive. The sight of the Marriott made his stomach clench. He hated this part of his job. Facing grieving family members after a death was bad enough, but when the detail involved such a young woman and a brutal murder…he gagged on the bile gathering in his throat.
Having discovered the woman’s gruesome body only the day before, he had few facts to offer the bereaved sister. Something about this case made Ash’s skin crawl. He parked his car then brushed his hands over his arms to ward off the eerie chill crawling up his neck. Damn. For as long as he could remember, he’d wanted to be a detective, but the job proved far less glamorous than what television shows portrayed. His heart broke for this victim…so young…so beautiful. Why would anyone want to hurt her? Sadly, he knew the answer fell within only a few possibilities.
Striding into the hotel, he headed toward the restaurant, while mentally repeating the script he’d said far too many times before. I’m so sorry for your loss. When was the last time you spoke to your sister? Did she seem distraught? Blah, blah, blah…more than anything, he wanted answers. Taking a long breath, he stepped into his detective façade and entered the restaurant. His gaze spied a turquoise tablet cover almost immediately, and he followed the line of vision from her hand upward to a slender neck and a mane of smooth, dark-brown hair drawn into a ponytail that curled in a thick cascade down her back. He paused a beat behind her then spoke softly to avoid jolting her from her focus. “Miss Rose?”
When her gaze met his, Ash’s throat constricted, tightening the knot now stuck in his throat.
“Detective Frasier?”
She stared, awaiting a response, but Ash had no words. Stunned, he could barely squeeze out a soft murmur. “Yes.” The woman before him was the victim…at least she looked identical to the woman he’d seen floating in the river only hours before.
“Please, have a seat.”
Tugging the chair from the table, he shook off the eerie sensation. Twins. Of course, the explanation was quite simple, but the notion had never occurred to him. “I’m truly so sorry to meet you under these circumstances.” Damn. Did he really say that? The comment sounded more like a pick-up line than a condolence. He gazed at the table to refocus. “I mean, I’m really sorry about your sister.”
