13. Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Thirteen
Summer
A sudden irritation slams into me when a loud clunk of something hits the glass of my bedroom window, jolting me awake. I wouldn’t be as upset if I actually slept more than I have been lately. As a matter of fact, I have woken up three times—and counting—since I fell asleep.
I groggily rub my eyes with the palms of my hands and squint at my alarm clock.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I mumble to myself, flipping onto my side and throwing the blanket over my head.
It’s probably just a squirrel that dropped an acorn, bouncing it off the tree branch and hitting my window. That’s what I tell myself, anyway, until another loud clunk happens, and my eyes bolt open.
There is no way that is coincidental.
My arms fly up, taking the blanket with them, and I scoot off the bed, slipping my legs into my favorite dark plaid pajama bottoms.
I’m not wearing a bra, so I cover my breasts with my arms and shuffle my feet along the soft carpet, all the while breathing in softly to keep the aggravation at bay.
My heart raises in my chest when I look out the window and see a glimpse of a person standing below. The streetlights cast enough of a glow through the street that I can make him out entirely.
Alec Sokolov.
His tattooed arm flings in the air as he waves. I can see a grin on his face. Using one hand, I pat my bedhead down as much as possible, making sure my other hand is still covering my breasts. What my hair looks like shouldn’t matter much, considering he saw me in my pajamas already, but it does because every single time I have seen Alec, I’ve either been a complete mess or my father comes between us and embarrasses the ever living hell out of me.
I have a feeling there will never be a dull moment when it comes to Alec.
If he wasn’t so attractive, I’d cuss him out for waking me up in the middle of the night—before my mother’s funeral nonetheless.
But something about this screams ‘ sweetest fucking thing ever .’ It makes me think about those romance movies when guys show up at their girls’ houses, begging for forgiveness or to sing sweet songs to them.
Oh my god. If Alec starts to sing for me right here, outside of my bedroom, I will die.
Thankfully, he doesn't have a guitar with him. So, I can scratch that thought out.
My fingers curl around the lip of the window to slide it open. A slight cool nighttime breeze hits my face. I’ve always loved the weather at night in early June. I slide the screen up and lean out the window just a tad.
“What’re you doing here?” I whisper loud enough for him to hear me from the second floor but quiet enough so I don’t wake Dad up. I make a quick glance at my door to make sure, but everything is quiet, besides the slight vibration of the central air. I turn my eyes back to Alec.
“You never gave me a day and time.” He shrugs. My eyebrows pull together. What on earth is he even talking about? He adds, “You asked if I would teach you how to play the guitar. You never specified when.”
Oh , that makes… but not enough sense to show up this late at night. He could have come by another time.
A small giggle comes from my throat, and I link my fingers together to rest my chin on my hands. “So, you’re telling me that you came all this way…” I make a quick glance to double-check the exact time, “past midnight to ask me when I can come by and learn how to play your guitar?”
Alec runs his tattooed hand through his hard hand. “I would have called, but you sort of left suddenly, and I never got the chance to ask for your number.”
I bite the inside of my cheek and think to myself for a minute. “How did you even know where I lived?”
His expression drops for a split second before his lips pull upward. “Took a wild guess. Your father is the only cop in town that hasn’t moved.”
That is true. My father grew up on the other side of town. When he and Mom found out she was pregnant with me, Dad purchased this house for us. It doesn’t surprise me that everyone, including Alec, knows where my father lives.
I nod, pressing my lips together. “Right. So, you take a leap of faith and come to his house, hoping that I would be here?” I question.
“Something like that. I mean, the kitten sticker on your window gave it away.”
I cross my arms at my chest. “Don’t make fun of Mr. Sprinkles.”
Alec puts his arms up in defense and laughs. I stare at him, drooling over how good he looks, with the glow of the streetlights radiating over him.
“So, can I have your number?”
I chew on my bottom lip and raise one finger to tell him to wait a minute. Then, I head over to my computer desk and open the top drawer to grab a pen and a piece of paper. After jotting down my number quickly, I fold it a few times to create a paper airplane.
When I get back to the windowsill, I toss the paper airplane down toward him. My aim has never been very good, which is why I have never bothered to play baseball, or any sport for that matter.
Alec’s attempt to catch the airplane makes a strange noise come from my lungs, and I burst out laughing. He stumbles but catches his balance before slamming into the ground.
“I’m good. I’m fine,” he says, then unfolds the paper. He looks back up at me and a broad smile spreads across his face, sharpening his jawline.
I shake my head. “Goodnight, Alec Sokolov.”
***
I can tell my father isn’t thrilled about today any more than I am. His breathing is heavy, coming in short gasps, and he paces back and forth in his room as he gathers his things.
I don’t blame him. He has kept it together since I came home. I haven’t seen him cry once.
I watch him for a moment longer as his fingers tremble, buttoning the final button of his dress shirt before I close the door to my room and get my dress on. Taking a minute, I stare at myself in my vanity mirror, sweeping short strands of my blond hair behind my ear and then shuffling through my makeup bag for my Maybelline mascara.
I’m not at all worried about where Mom is being buried. Dad picked the most beautiful cemetery in town, and I know she would have loved it.
But everything feels surreal.
Tossing my mascara back into my bag, I grab the speech I wrote down off my desk, fold the paper, and stuff it into the side pockets of my black dress. I’m not much of a purse kind of gal. I prefer pockets. Everything and anything. If it has pockets, I’m buying it.
So, when I saw this dress, I knew it would be perfect for today. It’s long and flowy and has a small slit on one side from my mid-thigh down. It’s casual but elegant.
I open the door to my bedroom and notice Dad isn’t in his room anymore, so I head downstairs to find him in the kitchen, tying his dress shoes.
He looks up at me. “Hey, princess.”
I give a sad smile. “Hi.”
He finishes one shoe and moves on to the other. “Everything will turn out beautiful,” he reassures me.
I know it will be, but it doesn’t make it any easier. I nod, fighting through the ache in my chest as the front door opens and Chloe comes inside. She notices me first, but then her head moves toward Dad. She has a wrapped box in her hand but moves the box behind her back.
“Hi, Mr. Raleigh.”
I roll my eyes, finding it hard not to smirk at her way of sucking up to my father. She’s always done that.
“Hi, Chloe.” Dad doesn’t sound enthused.
He’s always loved Chloe, though. She was my only friend that Mom and Dad would allow to sleep over when I was growing up. As we got older, it was like Chloe had some magical charm on my parents.
She looks at me, and her eyes widen as if she is silently trying to tell me something, but when Dad stands and looks in our direction, she fixes her expression quickly and smiles at him.
It doesn’t take me long to know she has something to tell me that she doesn’t want Dad to overhear.
“Well, I’ll see you there, sweetheart,” Dad says and kisses the top of my head before walking toward the door. “See you, Chloe.”
The second the door clicked shut, Chloe let out a long breath. “Thank god.” She swings her arms out in front of her with a box wrapped in glitter wrapping paper.
“Glitter. Are you serious?” I’ve always hated glitter. It gets everywhere.
“Your favorite,” she wiggles her eyebrows. “Open it later. When you’re ready.”
I sigh, take the box out of her hands, and run upstairs, leaving it on my bed. When I head back downstairs, Chloe is typing away at her phone.
“Who do you text all day?” I ask. She shakes her head, but it’s the blush on her cheeks that I notice. “Oh, Chloe has a boyfriend?”
“Not exactly. Maybe? I hope,” she shrugs. “Let’s go. You can’t be late.”
***
I take in a large amount of air and blow out slowly before following the stone path up the short hill to where my mother is being put to rest. Chloe stays close to me, and I couldn’t be more thankful that she’s by my side through it all.
As we walk up the path, I notice how beautiful and well cared for this cemetery is. I knew it was the best in town, but I didn’t anticipate it being this elegant and peaceful. I pause, struggling to walk the rest of the way.
Chloe wraps one arm around my shoulder. “Are you doing alright?”
I take in my surroundings, scaling my eyes over all the tombstones. Some are weathered in time, and some are freshly polished. The roll of my throat is harsh as I swallow. “No, but I have to be.”
Chloe frowns and follows me the rest of the way. My lips pinch together when my eyes skate over everyone here.
Uniforms.
The majority of people here are in police uniforms.
My body heats as anger starts to rise beneath the surface of my skin.
I shake my head. “I can’t fucking believe this.”
Chloe’s eyes fall. “What?”
Scratching my temple, I sigh. “Dad refused to call Mom’s friends but had the audacity to have the whole police squad here. I just… Mom couldn’t stand half of these people.”
An unwelcoming wave of grief washes over me.
Chloe grabs my upper arms and turns me to face her. “Listen, they are here to support your father, who also lost his wife. Don’t let something like this affect you.” I nod, holding onto her words, and she gives me a soft smile. “Come on.”
On our way to find a good place to stand, I walk past Mom’s friends, Mary and June, and pause quickly to give them both a hug. I start with June, who apologizes for my loss, and move to Mary, who hugs me a little tighter than June. I was always a bit closer to Mary.
“Thank you for being here,” I say to both of them.
Mary’s arm rests on my back and moves up and down. “She will be missed.”
I nod, slipping out of her hold and making my way to Allen Brentley. He sees me and give a soft smile, pulling me into a hug.
“How are you holding up, kiddo?”
“As best as I can.” I look around him, noticing his wife isn't here. “Is Mrs. Raleigh at home?”
“ Tabitha is with the kids.” I bite back a smile. “Are you ever going to call her by her name?”
“Nope.”
Allen gives me one last hug before I stand beside Chloe and wait for everything to start.
As the funeral draws closer, Dad steps beside my mother’s urn. He kisses two of his fingers and rests them on the top of the jar as if he is giving Mom one last kiss goodbye. My eyes water, but I’m forced to blink the tears away. I need to be stronger than this. With a quick roll of my shoulders, I stand taller as Dad begins his speech.
He clears his throat. “Thank you for coming here today,” he begins, his eyes scaling over everyone here and landing on me. He nods his head, giving me a sad smile. “Losing Katherine has been a great deal of pain for all of us, but she’s no longer suffering.”
His words fade out as I imagine her beautiful smile. My chest pinches, and a tear sneaks out. I quickly wipe it away with my fingertips as Chloe hugs me tight, I lean into her touch needing the comfort from my best friend.
The world surrounding me blurs. It’s like I’m trapped in a fantasy where none of this is real. I wish it wasn’t.
I notice out of the corner of my eye that two officers to the right are chatting, and I find it utterly disrespectful to be standing here at my mother’s funeral conversing among themselves instead of respecting the death of my mom.
I look over to Chloe. “Hey, I’ll be right back.”
She looks me over quickly, but then nods, and I hurry toward the officers. I don’t recognize them, but it isn’t unusual considering I wasn’t around many officers besides Allen. I pause in my tracks as I overhear them whisper.
“I can’t believe he’s pushing for the case to close,” the one closer to me says.
My eyes narrow, and I take a step back so I can move directly behind them to listen better and go unnoticed. I’m certain if they see that I’m close by, they won't continue their conversation.
“It doesn’t make sense. What kind of husband wouldn’t want to solve his wife’s murder,” the other says.
My mouth falls and my hand flies up to cover it.
“Not unless he’s a suspect himself. Dean won’t investigate him. He’s a godsent in the office.”
My heart stops, and I nearly choke on my own saliva. I manage to hurry away as quickly as I can, so they don’t notice I was listening. Thankfully, I chose to wear flats instead of heels.
My breath quickens, and nausea coils through me as I try to process what I heard. How is it possible? My father would never do something like that.
When Dad’s speech comes to an end, he looks at me. “Summer also wanted to say a few words.”
Everyone turns to look at me, and my body tightens.
How can I stand up there and talk in front of all these people now?
Chloe senses my nerves and leans into me. “You got this. You’re doing it for Mom.”
I’m doing it for Mom.
I close my eyes and take a deep breath before opening my eyes again. I stuff my feelings down and put a smile on my face before walking next to my mother’s urn.
My heart races as I look over the crowd and see everyone staring at me. An unsettling feeling grows in my stomach. My eyes meet Chloe’s, and she lifts her two thumbs to remind me that I got this.
I lick my lips and clear my throat, pulling my paper out of my pocket and looking over my words for a second before I read them out loud.
“My mother was a wonderful woman. A wonderful Mom and a wonderful wife. She filled our home with laughter and love…” I pause, needing to gather my thoughts for a moment. My throat feels like it’s closing in on me.
The sun blazes down, a bead of sweat trickles down my forehead. “Uhm…” Clearing my throat, I take yet another long breath.
I can do this. It’s for mom. She deserves to have a good speech from her daughter. Then, I remember what my father said to me.
“I lost my temper and told them both to get out of the house.”
“This was the night she was found.”
My stomach twists, and my eyes well with water. Clamping my eyes shut, I wait a minute, crumple the paper, and stuff it back into my pocket. I stand taller, making sure to look at everyone here.
“You know… My mom was the best mother there ever was—the best mother I could have asked for. She made mistakes in her life, maybe more frequently than a handful of us here today…” I huff a little. “But we all make mistakes. There isn’t a single person here that is perfect. She didn’t deserve this, and I guarantee whoever did this to her… whoever killed her…” My eyes manage to fall on my father who doesn’t look pleased with where this is heading. “Damn you to hell. I will find out who did this to her.”