Victoria (13 page)

She sat on her father's side of the bed and gently glided her hand across the pillow. She could smell his cologne and she knew she imagined it. He looked so happy in the picture. So did her mother and it was a reminder of what needed to be done. She carefully placed the picture back on the nightstand and covered her mom with the blanket.

As she turned toward the door, she saw her Uncle Patrick and brother, Peter, watching her. She tried to wipe away the tears and clear her mind of the alcohol she'd consumed, but she lost the battle as she embraced her uncle and her brother.

"Everything is going to be all right, Tory. We'll all make it through this together,” Uncle Patrick told her.

"We're going to catch his killer, I promise you.” She pulled away trying to walk herself down the stairs.

Uncle Patrick and Peter exchanged looks about the comment then helped Victoria downstairs.

"Is everything all right?” Aunt Jane asked from the bottom of the stairs.

"Yeah, everything is fine, but I think you should put on a pot of coffee,” Peter said.

Instantly, Aunt Jane realized Victoria had been drinking. “Oh, heavens!"

Victoria started laughing, a giddy and silly laugh, then a snort that made Uncle Patrick and Peter laugh, as well.

An hour and one full pot of coffee later brought Victoria back to an almost sober state.

"You should leave your car here, Tory. I'll drive you home in a little while then tomorrow, I'll pick you up first and come here to get Mom for the ceremony. Afterwards, you can pick up the jeep here,” Peter said.

Victoria wasn't in the mood to argue with him. Just then, her cell phone rang, and she attempted to stand up from the kitchen table to answer it.

"Hey, darling, it's me. Where have you been? I've missed you,” Bret said as Victoria got up from the kitchen table, stumbled a little, then sat back down.

"I'm fine. How are you?” She knew she sounded a little funny.

"Did I catch you at a bad time?"

"Kind of, I'm at my mom's and my family is here.” She looked around, knowing it was obvious to all that Bret was the caller. Her uncle gave a disapproving sigh and Peter sat in the chair across from her with his arms folded in front of his chest, just staring at her.

Victoria was glad she was still a little tipsy.

"Oh, all right then. I'll let you go, but I just wanted you to know that I'm going to the ceremony tomorrow, and if you needed a ride, I'd be happy to bring you. I'm sure this is going to be difficult for you, Victoria. I don't want you to be alone."

"No worries, Bret, my brother Peter is going to give me a ride tomorrow. Our family will be together, so I won't be alone, but thank you anyway, for the offer. I'll see you tomorrow."

"You sound funny, Victoria. Are you sure, you're all right? I can come over to your place later."

"No, I won't be there for a while, but if I get back early, I'll call you."

"What about dinner tomorrow after the ceremony and luncheon?"

"That might be nice. Let's see how the day goes. I'm glad you'll be there tomorrow,"

Her brother shot up from the chair, knocking it onto the floor.

Victoria silently hoped the comment had put a huge smile on Bret's face. She wanted him to think he was winning her over against her family.

"Of course, I'll be there for you. Call me later to say goodnight."

"Okay. Bye.” She closed the phone and put her head down on the table. The migraine came back, and she couldn't make eye contact with her brother.

"Tory, what are you doing? You're still seeing Collins when Steven is back?"

Peter yelled at her as she held the sides of her head.

She slowly looked up toward him. Her uncle picked the chair up off the floor.

"I'm not in the mood, Peter, just drop it."

Peter slammed his fist down on the kitchen table, causing Victoria to jump.

"No, damn it. I won't drop it! People are already talking and they think you're crazy. Steven still loves you. He wants to make things right between you. You're in love with him. I know you are. We all know you are!” he hollered. Her head pounded.

She looked at the doorway where a small bathroom was located that contained a blue vanity and matching blue toilet. She envisioned in her mind making it there, lifting the seat and puking up her insides again. The roll she had eaten earlier did absolutely nothing for her. Now that her stomach was filled with brandy and coffee, she was sure they weren't going to come up as smooth as they went down.

"Victoria, don't you love Steven?” Peter yelled again as she tried to stand up. She held her head, the pain was enormous and she needed to get to the bathroom.

"Victoria!” he screamed as she took a few wobbly steps forward.

"Yes, damn it. I love him. I'll love him forever!” She cried as she ran toward the bathroom, knocking Peter out of the way.

I made it, thank God; I made it
. Once again, she threw up.

The burning was enormous, her throat on fire, her nose running, and she could hardly swallow. She felt as if she were choking as she tried to settle herself down.

She heard her uncle ask if she was okay, and she did all she could to get out the word “fine".

Slowly, she breathed normally again, then swallowed easier as she sat back on the heels of her feet, holding her knees and staring at the floral wallpaper for a moment.

Victoria pushed herself from the white tile floor. She had been sitting there a while just staring at the empty, light blue toilet. She flushed the clear water again as the words repeated in her head, then escaped from her lips in a whisper. “My life is like the water and with each day that passes, I flush a part of it down the drain and possibly lose it forever.”
Obviously, I'm not quite sober yet.
She laughed.

She slid next to the wall and leaned her head back, still giggling a little about her sudden deep and profound statement. The grass was green. Why was the sky blue? Her head pounded again. The thoughts were too deep.

She needed to pull herself together. She wanted to catch Bret even more and be able to share with her mother the information she had, the proof her father had never cheated.

Twenty minutes later, she emerged from the bathroom. She had screwed up. She let them know she still loved Steven. She needed to stay silent. Victoria could have blown the whole thing right here. The thought of Bret getting away with murder sobered her up.

When she entered the kitchen, Victoria stopped in her tracks. She was shocked to see Steven leaning against the kitchen counter talking to everyone, but she was determined to keep her cool.

They all stopped when she entered. Victoria swallowed hard. She needed to hold back the tears that filled her eyes and were threatening to escape. Every time she saw the love of her life, she wanted to cry. They were tears of joy; tears of pure happiness that she needed to submerge, bury deep inside and practically destroy if she were to succeed in capturing a killer.

"Hello, Victoria,” Steven said.

Victoria forced a small smile.

She avoided making eye contact. She loved him still, with all her heart.

Glancing toward her uncle, she tried to control the dizzy feeling.

"I need to get going. I'm fine now, so give me my keys.” Victoria reached out her hand toward Peter. Her body swayed a little toward the wall.

Peter gently took her arm to balance her.

"Honey, you can't drive and you're not fine,” Peter told her.

It was obvious Steven knew the whole story. He stood there with his hands in his jean pockets, looking handsome and sexy with his crisp white t-shirt, tanned skin, and crew cut. Her family loved him and they acted as if he'd never left. He did, though, and she stared at Steven angrily.

"Fine, you won't give me the keys then I'm walking.” She started for the front door.

"Wait, Tory, I'll drive you,” Steven called after her.

She couldn't allow that to happen. She couldn't be alone with him again. It was too tempting, too dangerous. What if Bret seen them together, what about Colt and Warren?

Shit. Think, Tory, think
.

She swung around toward Steven so fast that it felt like her head spun. Losing her balance in the process, she hadn't realized he was already following her and was so close behind her. Her shoulder hit his hefty chest and his arms embraced her as she lost her footing.

Silent a moment as she stared down at the tile floor, she attempted to regain composure, despite the desire that spread through her body. One simple touch, a solo, warm, manly embrace from Steven and all responsibility, commitment, and objectivity disappeared. At lightning speed, her mind forced her to focus on her goal.

Be strong, Tory. You have to find your father's killer. Your mom needs this. Your whole family needs this.

It was when his hand caressed her cheek and moved her hair away from her eyes that reality set in.

Shoving away from his body, she took multiple steps away from him. Glancing at the stunned facial expressions around her, she knew her reaction would shock them. There was no turning back, no way to minimize the blow she was about to inflict on Steven. It was the only way to ensure she went home alone and without compromising the mission.

"My family may have easily accepted the fact that you're back, that you never left us, but I'm not that easy. I don't want a ride from you, Steven, so don't ask again."

Everyone seemed surprised by her words. She was the least confrontational person.

"Victoria! What's gotten into you?” Uncle Patrick asked; his stern tone apparent.

She turned her head toward him, still holding onto the meanest look she could muster.

"What's gotten into me? What's gotten into you—all of you?” she yelled as she turned back toward Steven, pointing her finger at him in anger.

"He leaves me, tells me to wait for him, and disappears off the face of the earth. He never calls. No one knows if he's dead or alive!” Voice shaking, tears ready to spill from her eyes, she forced herself to continue, taking another step farther away from Steven and her family.

"It was me who sat by the television set watching every news broadcast, jumping out of my skin every time the phone rang, hoping and praying that it was him!” She yelled still as she stepped back even farther away from Steven.

"He never called. He dropped me, forgot about me, I meant nothing. I mean nothing to him."

"No, Victoria that's not true.” Steven tried to interrupt as he took a step closer.

She raised her hand up, a sure signal for him to step no further.

"No! I don't want to hear it. I don't believe anything you have to say. You had your chance. I waited too long for you. My heart,” she placed her hand over her chest, shaking her head side to side, “can't take it anymore.” She barely got it out as her voice cracked and she turned to leave the room, unable to speak any further.

Peter called after her, following her out the front door.

"I'll drive her home.” Peter followed Victoria.

Jane went upstairs to check up on Sherry while Patrick and Steven got a couple of beers and went outside out to the porch.

"My God. I've hurt her so badly."

"Don't believe what she said, Steven. Something is going on. She's trying so hard all of a sudden to separate herself from her family."

"What makes you say that?” Steven thought about how Victoria looked and how much he loved her. He was determined to prove his love to her no matter how hard she fought against him.

"She's been acting strange for over a week now. She won't meet any of us for lunch. She avoids long conversations or any personal ones. It's not like her."

"Maybe she does like this guy, Bret."

Patrick leaned against the porch railing.

"Son, there is no way she likes him. I truly believe she still loves you"

"I know she does, and I'm not giving up on her. She's what kept me alive out there. I survived; I pulled through because of Tory. I had to see her again. I want to be with her, marry her, and start a family. I want all of it and damn it, she's going to see that."

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"Now where should I leave you, Officer Chappa?” Rubbing his thumb and forefinger under his chin, the killer spoke to the motionless body. He didn't contemplate over the fact he felt absolutely no remorse, no guilty feelings, just a cold hatred. Looking down, he spotted the tiny splatters of blood on his shoes.

"Damn it!"

In a rage, he kicked the body repeatedly, nearly twisting his ankle as he lunged and pounced on the flesh until he broke into a sweat.

Breathing hard, he whispered, teeth clenched, as he stood up straighter.

"Something special, I have planned for you. Somewhere everyone can appreciate my work."

He smiled then laughed at the instant epiphany that emerged inside his mind. He had to work quickly. He was losing light and everything needed to be perfect. One more day—just one more day, and the next step of his plan would be in motion. He smiled. “Duty calls. Time to leave, my little friend, but I'll be back real soon.” Smiling, he walked away.

Victoria was surprised to hear the knock at the front door. It was nearly seven in the evening. She had just finished eating a little something for dinner and wasn't expecting anyone. She hoped it wasn't a family member. She had gotten off easy earlier in the day when Peter drove her home and didn't question her or push for answers. She remained silent the whole way home, mostly praying she could hold out as long as it took. She couldn't wait until this was over.

Peaking through the side window near the door, she recognized the convertible that sat beside her car in the driveway.

Panic set in, then confidence, knowing she had come this far and was ready for anything.

"Bret, what are you doing here? I wasn't expecting you."

"You sounded funny on the phone today. I had to see you, in case you needed me.” He leaned forward to kiss her cheek.

She forced herself into her role, hoping the investigators outside watched.