Heart of the Storm

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Heart of the Storm Page 8

by Nicole Stiling


  Juliet slapped Sienna’s hand away when the bill came. She mentioned something about the Chinese food from that night at the station, but Sienna wasn’t really paying attention. She was staring at Juliet’s eyes, wondering if that mesmerizing shade of grayish-green existed in nature or if Juliet was some kind of science-fiction anomaly.

  “Come on,” Juliet said, taking Sienna by the hand.

  Sienna held on to Juliet’s fingers, not breaking contact until they were outside on the deck. Most of the people who had been out there earlier had moved inside; there was a chill in the air that hadn’t been there before. There was still one lone person riding the shallow surf on a bodyboard, but aside from him, all the other beach goers had abandoned their activities too. The sun had set, leaving a dull glow on the horizon even as the moon made itself known above them.

  They stood at the far end of the deck, away from the noise of music and chatter that drifted outside. The band was packing up all of their equipment a few feet from where they stood. Sienna leaned on the splintered railing, careful not to catch her shirt on a wooden splinter. She watched as Juliet shivered.

  “Got cool, didn’t it?”

  Sienna nodded. She absentmindedly brought her hand up to Juliet’s back and rubbed it vigorously. When she realized what she was doing, she took her hand quickly away. “A lot cooler. We’re supposed to have another heat wave coming through though.” Even the small talk about weather felt natural and easy, not like they were being forced to come up with conversation.

  Juliet turned so that her back was facing the ocean and her hips rested against the decking. Sienna just stared out at the water, the waves sliding over the dark sand. The last holdout seemed to have picked up and left as well. Sienna felt hypnotized by the swell and drop of the whitecaps.

  “I like you,” Sienna whispered, startling herself. She continued to look out at the ocean, though she felt Juliet immediately straighten next to her.

  “Yeah,” Juliet said, also nearly a whisper. “I like you too.”

  “I wish you weren’t who you are.” Sienna’s head had mellowed to a comfortable buzz, but she still didn’t seem to be able to stop the words from spilling out of her mouth.

  Juliet laughed, thankfully. “Nice. What does that even mean?”

  “I just meant that I wish there were less…you know, obstacles?” For a terrifying moment, she wondered if Juliet had assumed she meant that she liked her, and wasn’t that crazy, because of Will and everything, and isn’t it nice spending time with a gal-pal. But she meant so much more than that.

  Juliet’s gaze told her she understood exactly what Sienna had meant. She was looking at her, really looking at her, and Sienna thought she might melt under the weight of Juliet’s stare.

  “I do know. To tell you the truth, I think about it a lot. Probably too much,” Juliet said. “You’re funny and genuine and just…beautiful, really. I’m surprised Will hasn’t had to fight off both men and women trying to get close to you.”

  Sienna’s heart raced. Her head suddenly felt completely clear, as if she’d been drinking nothing but water all night long. So, Juliet had thought of her in that way. If circumstances were different, Juliet would want to be with her. Sienna felt a ripple of elation flow through her. Until she remembered that circumstances weren’t different.

  “Do you think…” Sienna began, then cleared her throat. “The hurdles in front of us are insurmountable?”

  Juliet didn’t say anything, just looked straight ahead. She seemed overcome with sadness all of a sudden, which Sienna didn’t think boded well for her question.

  “Probably.” She turned toward Sienna, who was leaning on the railing in Juliet’s direction. Their faces were inches apart, but neither of them moved. Their eyes were locked, and Sienna found that ethereal light the moon cast on Juliet’s face prohibited her from looking away.

  Sienna braced herself as Juliet came the slightest bit closer. It was a bad idea, and they both knew it. So why was Juliet staring at her lips, and why was Sienna so ready to pull her closer and never let her go?

  A loud beep and buzzing vibration broke the stillness of the moment.

  They nearly jumped apart, Sienna fumbling in her pocket for her phone with shaking hands.

  “It’s Declan,” she said, her voice low and scratchy. “He wants to know where I put his case of Mountain Dew, sorry.”

  Juliet laughed too enthusiastically. “Wouldn’t it be in the fridge?” She ran her hand through her hair.

  “If it’s in the fridge, he’ll suck down a twelve-pack in two days. I keep it behind the paper towels in the garage,” Sienna said, replying to his message and sticking the phone back in her pocket.

  “Makes sense. He’s all about those sports drinks at my house.”

  There was a new tension in the air that hadn’t been there previously. Sienna felt awkward, and she was pretty sure Juliet felt the same. She shouldn’t have said anything. Now she’d probably lose her friend too.

  Juliet broke the silence. “I think I’m fine to drive, but do you want to go have a few waters and play a quick game of pool or something to be sure?”

  Sienna nodded quickly, glad the night wasn’t over yet. “Yes, that sounds good.”

  They walked back into the bar, the magic surrounding them earlier completely dissipated. Sienna could barely contain her disappointment about the detour the evening had taken. They played pool, both of them focusing on the game more than each other. Before it was out there, in the open, they could just pretend that it didn’t exist and there could be this unspoken chemistry and those unacknowledged sparks between them. Exciting and forbidden and explosive. But she’d opened her mouth, and she feared she’d just ruined everything.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “I fucked up.”

  Celeste shot Juliet a questioning look. “What did you do this time?”

  Juliet dropped her sunglasses on her desk as Celeste followed her into her office. She nodded toward the door so Celeste would shut it.

  “I went out with Sienna last night. We went to Neptune’s for a few drinks.”

  “So?”

  Juliet just sighed.

  “Did you sleep with her?” Celeste whisper-shouted with wide eyes.

  “Shh. No.”

  “Then what’s the problem?” Celeste asked, her hand still resting on the doorknob.

  “We talked about…stuff.”

  Celeste rolled her eyes.

  “Feelings.” Juliet enunciated the word that felt too strange in her mouth.

  “Wait. That night at your house, after the baseball game, you told me there was nothing going on. I even asked you about it point-blank. And you laughed at me and told me I was delusional. I knew it, you big liar. I could tell by the way you looked at her,” Celeste said. She was obviously proud of herself.

  “There wasn’t anything going on. Isn’t. But okay, I may have denied being attracted to her, because I can’t be. She’s married to my…whatever the fuck he is. My friend! My son’s father. And Declan loves her and wants them to get back together and for them to be a happy little family or some bullshit.” Juliet rubbed the back of her neck furiously.

  “So, it’s a forbidden romance? No wonder you want each other. That shit is hot.”

  “You are no help at all. It’s not a forbidden romance.” Juliet used air quotes. “I just realized that I like her, a lot, and it’s strange, and we can’t be more than friends. That’s it.”

  “Fine, tell yourself whatever you want. But I still don’t see how you fucked up?”

  Oh, right. Juliet sighed again and stared at the ceiling. “We went out last night and we both admitted that there was something there. Between us. And now this friendship that we were building is in the toilet because we made it weird. Which really sucks, because I like spending time with her.”

  Celeste pursed her lips. “Isn’t this kind of self-imposed, though? Maybe Will would be fine with it. Declan would keep her as a stepmom. Seems like a win-wi
n.”

  Juliet stared at her, aghast. “What? Will would not be fine with it. He still loves her and wants to work things out. And Declan would keep her as a stepmom? That is just…I don’t know, I have no words. Both of his parents sleeping with the same woman? That’s the kind of stuff that screws kids up for life. What if it didn’t work out between us down the line? It’s just not a good idea to even entertain the possibility. It couldn’t conceivably end well.” The more she said it out loud, the more she realized just how inappropriate a relationship between the two of them would be. Which depressed her even more than she had been. She sunk lower in her chair.

  “I guess you’re right. So, what are you going to do, stop seeing her?”

  “I don’t know yet. I don’t want to. Although, I don’t know if she even wants to see me anymore, so I might not have a choice. The whole thing is just fucked.” Juliet sighed. She saw Quinlan walk by her office and glance at them through the window. “Okay, you should go back to your desk. I have to figure out who the hell Restarick is and what he has to do with the Kowalskis.”

  * * *

  Juliet sat across from Quinlan at the conference room table. Once he finished grumbling about budget constraints and resource restrictions, he sat back and folded his hands behind his head. “What do we have today that we didn’t have yesterday?” he asked.

  “Not much, Chief. There wasn’t much on the flash drive that I got from Tara Wolfe, but the IT guys are going through it to see if anything was missed. And I pulled a note from Kowalski’s desk that just says Mr. Restarick. It’s probably not even connected to anything, but I can’t figure out who Restarick is. I have a feeling it means something, but I might be grasping.”

  Quinlan continued to stare at the wall. “So, we have a red truck that tried to run Mrs. Kowalski off the road, and Mr. Kowalski died by an overdose of nitroglycerin. They have no known enemies, no unpaid debts, and Rich has no history of mental illness or anything else that might suggest he had suicidal tendencies. The footprints in the dirt were his own, and a search of their house turned up nothing of interest. We have a Post-it Note and a flash drive as our only evidence, and neither one points to anything. Maybe you were right all along, Mitchell. Maybe we should have brought in the big guns, since we clearly have no idea what we’re doing.”

  Juliet looked down. She knew Quinlan was just blowing off steam. His favorite go-to when things weren’t going their way was to confirm how terrible they all were at their jobs. Later, he’d apologize and tell them that he was just frustrated. Juliet had been doing the dance with him for a very long time.

  “Did Jeffries get you the life insurance info you asked for?” Juliet asked.

  Quinlan nodded. “Yep. Rich has twenty-five K and Gretchen has twenty-five K. Not exactly enough to make anyone rich.”

  “Were they each other’s beneficiaries?”

  “Yeah,” Quinlan said, flipping through some papers. “First beneficiary is each other, second is the daughter. Pretty standard. The daughter’s finances don’t suggest that she’s destitute or in any urgent need. She’s rude, but she’s been forthcoming so far. She let us into her place without any hesitation.”

  After a quick knock on the door, Celeste poked her head in. “Sorry to interrupt. The IT guys just sent over some hidden files from that flash drive we sent over. They said it wasn’t any kind of high-tech concealment or anything, but anyone who’s only semi computer literate wouldn’t be able to find them.” She looked pointedly at Juliet. “And they were password protected. Anyway, you’re gonna want to see what’s on it.”

  Juliet and Quinlan both went over to Celeste’s desk, where she had a document pulled up on her monitor. She enlarged the view so they both could see it without squinting. Juliet bent over and read.

  Coffee—splash of cream only. He only wears solid color ties. No stripes or designs. He’s afraid of the dentist, but he has two crowns, one on a back molar and one on his front tooth. Broke it in sixth grade when he got hit by a baseball. He has to take .4 mg of nitro for chest pain. He wears a size ten shoe.

  Juliet stood up straight and looked at Celeste, who was looking back at her expectantly. “It’s odd, but maybe he wanted his assistant to know all of these things so she could manage his appointments and fetch his coffee the right way? He didn’t seem the type, but you never know.”

  “Keep reading. It gets a whole lot weirder. Besides, Tara isn’t his personal assistant. She’s the assistant librarian. Very different, she’s like middle management of the library. She shouldn’t be fetching anyone’s anything,” Celeste said.

  Juliet leaned back down to continue reading.

  That rep from the office supply place came in again today. She flirts with him every single time she’s in here, and they smile and laugh, and she touches his shoulder like she has a chance. Laughable. But Rich plays into it and I don’t understand why. I think he just doesn’t realize it yet. It’s me, Rich. It’s me! I wish I could wave my arms in front of his face and tell him to look at me, to see me, because once he does, he’ll know. Sometimes it seems like he’s so close to acknowledging it, like he’s finally ready. But then he doesn’t say anything, and it must be because Gretchen got into his head or he’s afraid that I’ll reject him. It’s frustrating, but I’m patient. Real love will wait forever. The sooner you come around, the sooner we can start the rest of our lives. You tell her you love her, but words are just words. I think it’s about time I show you what love is.

  Quinlan let out a low whistle. Celeste turned her monitor back toward herself.

  “Told you,” she said quietly.

  Quinlan nodded at Juliet. “Bring her in.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Gretchen Kowalski stifled a sob as they pulled into her long, gravel driveway. Sienna sat next to her in the driver’s seat while Gretchen’s daughter, Monique, sat behind them in the back seat. Sienna reached for her hand and Gretchen squeezed it.

  “You don’t think they made too much of a mess, do you?” Gretchen asked quietly.

  “No, I’m sure they put everything back where they found it,” Sienna said. She hoped so, anyway. Walking into the house that she’d shared with her husband for the last few decades would be a whole lot worse if the place was flipped upside down. “Do you feel like you’re ready to go in?”

  “Of course, she’s ready,” Monique piped up from the back seat. “She hasn’t been home in forever. Wouldn’t you want to lie in your own bed?”

  God, she has absolutely no empathy or tact. Sienna ignored her. “If you need a few more minutes, we can sit here. There’s no rush,” she said to Gretchen, who was staring at the front door.

  “No, I think I’m ready.” Gretchen nodded, as though she was confirming to herself that she was indeed ready.

  “Okay, then we’ll go in.” Sienna walked around to the passenger side door and opened the door of her Volvo. She took the walker from Monique who was trying to unfold it but close to breaking it. Sienna had to constantly fight the urge to give her dirty looks.

  Gretchen held on to the walker handles, her grip so tight her hands were white as she shuffled toward the front door. Thankfully, there were only three stairs leading up it. Monique used what was presumably her own key and swung the door open. A quick glance inside quelled Sienna’s fear that the house was a disaster. Everything looked like it was in its rightful place.

  “Smells like feet in here,” Monique said, crinkling her nose.

  “I’m sure it’s just the fact that there hasn’t been any fresh air circulating. We’ll open some windows once we get settled,” Sienna said, this time actually shooting a dirty look in Monique’s direction. Monique just shrugged.

  “His glasses. His glasses are still resting on the arm of his recliner. He needed them to watch his programs at night.” Gretchen stopped to look around the living room.

  Sienna watched her closely, though she seemed to be holding up well. It wasn’t until she turned toward the kitchen and saw a folded-up newspap
er sitting on the kitchen table that Sienna noticed her knees begin to buckle. She reached over and quickly put her arm around Gretchen’s waist, preventing her from slumping to the ground.

  “Monique, a little help please,” Sienna said.

  Monique seemed to snap back to reality at the sound of Sienna’s voice and put her arm around Gretchen’s waist as well. Sienna nodded toward the couch, so they maneuvered Gretchen into a sitting position on the small fabric sofa. Her shoulders lurched as silent sobs wracked her body. Sienna sat next to her, holding her, while Monique stood above them chewing on her thumb.

  “I don’t really know what to do,” Monique said, and that was probably the realest thing she’d said since Sienna had met her. “It’s all so eerie. Like his presence is still here, but he’s not. And we have the funeral this weekend and this whole thing is just insane.”

  Monique looked like she was either about to cry or have a nervous breakdown, showing a crack in the facade that made her more vulnerable. Sienna motioned her over and gestured to the seat on the other side of Gretchen. Monique sat down and put her arm around her mother, who leaned into her shoulder. Sienna carefully extracted herself from their embrace and allowed the two of them to cry in each other’s arms.

  “I’m so sorry, Mom. So sorry,” she kept repeating over and over.

  Sienna went into the kitchen to give them some privacy. Monique had offered to stay overnight with her mother but couldn’t promise she’d be there during the day. Her work schedule was sporadic. They’d set up a visiting nurse to spend the days with Gretchen and a physical therapist to work with her until her legs healed to the point where she could be mobile without as much assistance. From what she’d gathered from Juliet and her time at the police station, there were still no solid leads on Richard’s murder or Gretchen’s almost-murder. It felt less and less likely that they’d ever find out who’d ripped their world apart so completely.

 

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