Saving Grace

39

The car pulled to a stop outside Jack Russo's beach house.

Grace clamoured out of the car before I could get the key out of the ignition and Godric caught her before she could race inside.

"You promised you wouldn't hurt him. You promised!"

She shoved him backwards, tears streaming down her face.

"Please, calm down," he rolled his eyes.

"Calm down? Calm down?!"

"Godric, what happened?" I asked, standing before him on Russo's trimmed grass.

"What do you mean, 'what happened'?" Grace cried. "He killed him!"

"No," Godric said. "I didn't."

I frowned, rocked back on my heels.

"What are you talking about?"

"I was on my way here to kill him," Godric corrected. Grace launched forward to strike him. I grabbed her arms, pulled her back. "But when I arrived," he continued. "I saw the front door was unlocked. I went inside, and I found him in the living room, shot dead in his armchair."

Grace let out a sob, knees buckled beneath her. I slid my arm around her and held her up. I pressed my lips together, met Godric's eye.

"So he was murdered?"

Godric shook his head.

"Suicide."

I felt my body lock up, confusion settling in my bones.

"Suicide?"

"There was gun in his hand and note on table."

I lowered my eyes, Grace's tears seeping through my shirt. There was no way this was suicide. It just didn't make any sense.

"I want to see him," Grace announced, breaking out of my embrace. She wiped her eyes with a trembling hand. "I want to..."

Godric tilted his head, a thought in his eyes.

"I don't think that would be wise."

"I want to see him!" She cried.

"Grace," I said softly, "don't do this to yourself. Just come with me. We can find somewhere to sit and talk about this."

"I don't want to talk!" She shoved me backwards, made a dash for the house.

"Grace!"

Godric caught my arm.

"Let her go, Richard. Some people need this."

I shook my head, shook off his hand.

"Just call the police," I said. "They'll take care of it."

I followed Grace inside, barely seeing the enormous, luxurious house that we were standing in. I found her in the living room, kneeling over Russo's body splayed out on the floor. His suicide note, titled Grace on the ripped envelope, was unfolded at his side.

Dear Grace,

I'm so sorry to do this, but please know it is not your fault. I know you loved me, and I know you lied about it. And I love you, Grace. I've always, always loved you. And the time we had together was the best time of my life. But when it ended, when you left, I knew true despair. And I thought I could handle it. I thought I could move on, and I even thought I had, but when I saw you that night at the fisherman's club, dancing with that guy, I just realised that I couldn't do this anymore. I can't live without you, Grace. I won't.

All my love and sorrow,

Jack.

Grace, collapsed at his side, wailed into the breaking day. I leaned down, brushed the hair out of her mascara-smeared eyes, and held her trembling body until the sirens sounded on the blinking horizon.

© A.G. Travers 2018