Hello Darkness

Chapter Ten

If I said being alone doesn't bother me, it would be a lie. It does, but life must continue. Breccan left with a promise to call several times, and if I didn't answer, he would be coming over. Alma, though she offered to stay, can't afford to miss any clinical hours. They were both just happy that I'd agreed to check in.

Most of my day consists of trying to catch up on the sleep I've lost at night. My nightmares linger in the dark, creeping over me, ready to spring as soon as I close my eyes.

I'm just waking up from an early afternoon nap, when a car motor slows and dies in the driveway. I'm not expecting anyone and Breccan had just called before I fell asleep. I push the blanket off my legs and sit up on the couch. Maybe it's Alma or Breccan stopping to check in? I draw closer to the window. No, it's not them at all.

Tinted windows bar me from seeing the passengers of the black sedan. My heart skips a a man steps out of the passenger side—dressed in a navy suit. Were they detectives? Maybe they want to ask me more questions. Or maybe they aren't from the police department at all—what if it is a disguise? No one would expect men in suits to be doing anything suspicious.

I move from the window and press my back against the wall, hoping they hadn't seen me. The other door slams. My pulse drums in my ears. What do they want?

My hands shake as I dial Breccan's number.

One ring. Two. Three. No answer. A knock echoes through the house. Are they testing to see if anyone is home? I frantically try calling again.

A thud vibrates the window. Oh God, they are trying to break in. I peek through a small slit behind the curtain. One of the men presses his meaty hand against the glass, peering in. A slight nick in his walnut buzzed hair rendered a section a little shorter.

His voice is muffled, but I can make out his words. "He said she'd be here."

Who is he? The murderer? He must have sent them. I peer around the room searching for anything to use as a weapon. A lamp? Or maybe I can just crawl to the closet—the sound of another car pulling into the drive breaks my thoughts. Another door slams.

I release a puff of air as their footsteps recede. Maybe the car spooked them. I glance at my phone. Why isn't Breccan answering?

Another voice joins the men outside, but this one is familiar—Breccan.

I step from behind the curtain. Breccan stretches his hand out to greet the larger of the two men—the one that peeked into the window—then pulls him in with a clap on the back. I relax. If Breccan's close enough to give him a bro-hug, then they're no threat to me. I scold myself for jumping to conclusions, then my eyes fall on Officer Silvano. He's out of his police uniform and wearing a black suit.

I sigh. They must be here to talk about the case. Do they usually arrive in twos? I thought that was only if they're making an arrest. I swallow, trying not to jump to conclusions again.

I pull open the door as the three men climb the stairs. Something tugs in my gut. It's all too real now. Heat flushes through my body. Why didn't Breccan tell me they were coming?

"Come in," I say as they approach, my cheeks heating as I plaster on a smile. "Please forgive me. I wasn't expecting company." I glare at Breccan. We'll talk about this later.

I move aside as the men waltz into my living room like they already own the place. They look more like businessmen than police officers, aside from the earpieces.

"There's been additional developments." Breccan looks up from under his brow. "I didn't have time to call. This is Derek." He motions to the taller, stockier of the two men. Though Breccan appears pleasant to the untrained eye, I know his jaw only twitches like that when something is on his mind.

Derek nods, giving me a slight smile, that raises the corners of his earthy eyes, before reaching out his hand. "It's nice to meet you." His voice is deeper than I expect and rumbles through the room.

Officer Silvano simply nods, and once again I can read nothing in his face. He seems different in this suit. His raven's feather hair is parted and combed back neatly to the side, but his eyes seem brighter and they hold as many shades of blue as a peacock's. Beautiful, yet glassy and cold. I shake the thought.

"Please, sit." I pull the decorative pillows from the couch to make extra room. I sit on the recliner, Breccan remains standing and the two men take a seat diagonal from me on the couch.

"You said there were new developments?" I try not to sound too eager, but my eyes defy me, begging Breccan for good news.

Breccan runs a hand over his hair. "Yeah—the senator was not happy with the progress of the case, so he called in a personal favor and an outside department took over the case." That doesn't sound like relief. There is more. I can feel it. It's like he's fighting himself. Like he physically can't speak the words. "And they closed it."

"What—but why? What about the girl?" They'd closed it so quickly. Wouldn't he want the case fully investigated over a speed? How could the senator do that to his own daughter? This is exactly what happened with my parents. My mind swirls trying to grasp what he said.

"They ruled it a suicide." I meet Breccan's gaze. No—this can't be. I thought maybe the department saw my purse and realized I had nothing to do with it, but this—this is what they were telling him he should say. Breccan didn't hide these things from me. He knows more, so why isn't he saying?

I can't look at him. "That's...not possible."

Breccan's jaw flexes and seems to be fighting with himself again. "Let me put this in simpler terms, Charley. You were a person of interest in a murder investigation, and you've been completely cleared. I wouldn't question it." His tone is sterner than it's ever been with me—it almost seems forced.

Officer Silvano's eyebrows furrow as he watches Breccan, his eyes carefully analyzing his face and the way his fingers curl around the arm of the couch.

My breath hitches as anger and relief fight to take hold of my body. Why is he talking to me like that? Tears burn the back of my eyes. "But... my window." He saw it last night. I thought he believed me. My breathing quickens.

"And that's why we're here," Officer Silvano says smoothly, turning away from Breccan. "No matter the reasons the department changed their mind, I know it wasn't a suicide just as well as I know you had nothing to do with it. Despite your futile attempts to implicate yourself by of your inability to control your tongue." His eyes lock with mine, but I refuse to look away. He smirks and lifts an eyebrow. "Nonetheless, I've agreed to take this on as a private case."

I want this person found, but I want the police away from me and doing their job. Private seems awfully personal. "What if I don't want you to?"

"Need I remind you, that someone is dead and it's highly probable that the person who killed her was outside your home last night?"

"It was suicide," Breccan blurts, like it was lodged in his throat and he'd been working at it all morning and finally got them out.

Officer Silvano leans over meeting his gaze. "Officer Thomas, do you really believe that?"

Breccan's fingers relax around the edge of the couch and his shoulders shrink. Breccan slips his hand over his sweat beaded forehead and across his hair. "No." He shakes his head and releases a puff of air. "Talum is right," he finally says. It takes me a moment to realize he's talking about Officer Silvano. "Charley, this is so much more than a message on your window. This is your life."