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Anita leaned in and rasped, “You lost your family a long time ago.”
I tried not to let that sting, but it did. Because she was partly right. I’d lost my sense of family, my father, years ago. Only now, he was physically gone from the world.
With an exasperated sigh, she said, “Fine, if I find the picture, you’ll drop the charges?”
“No,” I said quickly. “This isn’t a bargain. I just want the photo.”
It was of no use to her, and even though I knew it was a long shot, I had to try for it.
Anita’s eyes met Greg’s and she said, “Let’s go.” Before she turned, she finished with, “I guess this is goodbye, Lana. No reason we need to see each other again.”
“Until court,” I said.
She scowled. “Unless you change your mind about the charges against Brock.”
“I won’t.”
While I would love nothing more than to never see either one of them again, I would happily show up to plead my case against Brock when the time came. I could wait. I’d been waiting a long time, a few more weeks or even months was nothing.
Anita and Greg began walking away, but Brock took one step toward me. His cold breath hit my face and I stifled the need to vomit.
“I haven’t heard from Erica,” he said.
“Then maybe you should take a hint. She left you.”
“Yes, and don’t think I’ve forgotten who’s to blame for that.” His eyes narrowed on me, and as much as I hated it, that familiar fear rose up in my chest. It took all my effort to beat it back down. “If you think she’ll testify against me, you’re wrong.”
For a split second, a look of worry flashed over his face. He was scared. Because he knew, just like I did, that if I called Erica, she would testify on my behalf for the breaking and entering. She may not have known the kind of man Brock was at the time, but she’d realized quickly after he’d broken into my home and fled. Fled in a car she was driving. Which made her an accomplice. The single reason I wasn’t going after Brock for that as well. I would never want to put Erica in that position. If the DA went after Brock for the breaking and entering, they’d likely tie Erica into it as well. She was a single mother who got caught up with the wrong man and didn’t know what he was doing. I wouldn’t let her go down for that. So, the assault charges against Brock would have to be enough.
“Blame me all you want, this time, there’s no getting around the truth,” I said. My gumption was wearing thin, and I just wanted to be away from him. Masking my fear took a lot of energy. But I tried. I would try forever.
“Brock,” Anita called. “Let’s go. We don’t want to delay the reading of the will.” I frowned and Brock just smiled and headed towards his mother. “Oh, don’t worry, Lana,” she said loudly. “You’re not in the will. So don’t bother coming.”
I looked at Greg and he shook his head in agreement. “It’s true. Just Anita and Brock are named.”
I swallowed down the ache in my throat. I didn’t care about material items. Money. Any of it. But my father was dead, and it was the final confirmation that I meant nothing. They didn’t speak another word as they continued on their way.
I stood, staring, as the last creaking inch of the levy placed my father six feet under. My phone buzzed in my pocket and I looked at it. The police station again. They’d called a couple times asking the same questions. Questions about my father and his life and why he would want to commit suicide. I shoved the phone back into my pocket, deciding to call them back later. All I could tell them was the same thing I’d already said from the start:
I don’t know.
Carter Case was many things, but opting out of life early wasn’t his style. Something the police seemed to be in line with, as this investigation into his “suicide” was proving to be extensive.
But what did I know? I didn’t know my father. Hadn’t for a long time. Maybe Anita was right. I never had a family.
Yet, as I stood there, staring down at my father laying to rest, I couldn’t turn to walk away. Instead, I stepped closer. A morbidity laced my thoughts as I stared at the ground, looking down at the casket that concealed the one man I once thought would save me from the world. My stomach punched with pain. He had never saved me from the world…and it turned out, I couldn’t save him back.
But I couldn’t leave him. Not yet.
A gust of wind kicked up and rustled the flowers on top of his casket. Little flecks of dirt sputtered over the clean roses, and seeing those brown spots hit the white petals angered me. Made tears start all the way from my toes and slowly work up my body, gaining weight until they hit my eyes.
I sat in one of the many empty white chairs, continuing to stare down at him.
In the ground. Gone forever.
Pressing my knees together to ward off the chill, I frowned when a drop of water hit the flowers. Then another. It seemed so vicious. Putting something so alive, so beautiful in the ground only for it to get covered by dirt.
More water fell from the sky, and I watched it dampen the roses until they wilted from the weight of the rain. The slapping of raindrops hitting the top of the coffin echoed a sharp melody. The sound was hypnotizing.
