Chapter 34
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
She’s absolutely amazing.
The thought just continues to reverberate in my mind as I watch her give the eulogy for her best friend.
We arrived in Nashville last night so we could all come to the funeral together today.
We didn’t want Dahlia to feel alone at any point and funerals are overwhelming for a typical situation, but this media circus is anything but typical.
Security is insane, but so is the press.
The fucking paparazzi.
They are relentless in their pursuit of buzzworthy sound bites and video. Even the traditional media is in on the hunt lately. My morning started off watching the New York City Police Department hold a press briefing about the crash—on the morning of Fiona’s funeral, no less.
The Chief of Detectives at least had the decency to look annoyed to be giving the briefing on this morning of all days.
“This tragic vehicular incident resulted in two fatalities and serious injuries to a third passenger. Preliminary forensic investigative tests have shown there appears to have been intentional tampering with the brake lines on the vehicle involved.” He cleared his throat as the press tried to interrupt him, but he continued reading the obviously prepared statement, not even trying to hide the piece of paper he was reading from.
“This situation is now officially being investigated by the NYPD as a potential double homicide and assault case. As of this morning, we do not have a suspect in custody, but we believe there are individuals out there that may not have been directly involved but know who is involved.” The Chief stopped reading and looked into the camera before finishing his statement.
“We are urging those individuals to come forward so justice may be served for the victims of this case and their families.”
We knew that statement was coming, and I was a little surprised they hadn’t released the information about the brake line tampering prior to today, but whatever tactic they were initially pursuing obviously didn’t pay off because they still don’t have a suspect in custody—or even a lead.
The authorities are aware of the situation with Rick, but he was confirmed to be in Tennessee that evening by multiple witnesses.
From what Daphne has been able to get out of the investigators, they aren’t sure if the tampering was intended to target Roman or Tinsley individually or collectively.
There’s no way someone could have expected Fiona to get in the car with them as that was a last-minute decision she made—one Tinsley is still blaming herself for.
When we arrived at the church for Fiona’s funeral, the press was borderline aggressive in trying to question Tinsley and Dahlia about Fiona’s death, and I barely held on to my sanity—even Wells looked like he was going to lose it when someone asked Tinsley if she had anything to do with Fiona’s death.
There are still people that buy into the false narrative that Fiona and Tinsley were enemies—and the press will push anything that gets attention.
There is no respect for Fiona’s sister and best friend grieving her loss, let alone any sympathy for what they’re going through.
Dahlia and Tinsley aren’t viewed as human beings with emotions; they are a story that someone wants the right sound bite and photo to capitalize on.
I sit and try not to fidget, but I want to crawl out of my skin waiting to see if she needs me to come to her side or just wait.
I think I’ve adjusted my glasses three times alone since she started speaking.
I don’t fidget.
But knowing that my girl is tackling this massive task and breaking her own heart in the process makes me want to do a lot more than fidget.
I want to run up there and carry her away from everyone and everything that wants to capitalize from her or cause her anything but joy and good things in life.
But I won’t—because she’s doing this for her friend.
And so, I sit and fight my urge to fidget.
“To your friends and family, you were so much more than just the star that the public knew.” Tinsley quickly swipes at a rogue tear and takes a quick breath before continuing the eulogy she stayed up until after two a.m. working on.
“You were the best of us, with the purest heart, even though your ability to tell jokes was the worst,” there are soft chuckles in the packed church at that, “and the most … most beautiful soul.” Tinsley places one hand on her upper stomach, and I know she’s trying to find her breath, which also tells me the anxiety is getting to be too much.
There are hundreds of people here, who knows who even put together the guest list, but the two people that matter most arrived with Wells and me: Fiona’s sister Dahlia and her best friend Tinsley.
Dahlia didn’t care about the service; she said Daphne could coordinate whatever she thought was appropriate.
There’s a reception after this at a country club nearby, but the five of us do not plan to attend that one, even if it is invitation only, it’s still not exclusive enough.
There are people that will be at that one just to be seen, and none of us have any interest in that—especially today.
We will have our own gathering with the people that actually knew Fiona, away from prying eyes and sneaky cell phone cameras.
Tinsley tries to take another deep breath, and I’m just waiting for the signal.
I told her I believed that she could do this—and I do—but I also told her I was going to step in the second she wanted me to.
She said she would let me know if she needed me, and moments later, Tinsley’s eyes lock into mine, and she nods, ever so slightly.
I don’t need to be told twice. I reach over Allie’s lap to squeeze Dahlia’s hand, leaving her with Allie and Wells, before exiting the front row and making my way to my girl.
I ascend the few steps of the stage and stand right behind Tinsley at the pulpit.
She reaches out and snatches my hand as soon as I’m close enough to her.
I stand at her back, ready to step in and take over if she wants me to or just stand sentry for her if that’s what she needs.
“You’ve got this, Red.” My voice is barely even a whisper, but I know she hears me as her shoulders lower, ever so slightly. She takes a deep breath and nods before continuing.
“If there’s some way you know what I’m doing right now, I can just imagine you hollering from the balcony for me to say what I really mean and forget worrying about what everyone else will think, so Fiona, that’s exactly what I’m going to do.
Fiona Skye was an incredible force and talent in this world.
Her light was bright and all-encompassing.
She loved her fans and loved putting on a great concert with a sold-out stadium singing along with her at the top of their lungs.
She was also a fiercely loyal friend and sister.
I promise, Fi, I will look after Dahlia, whether she likes it or not.
” Tinsley pauses and looks at Dahlia who is swiping at her face, and her brother nods with his arm wrapped around Dahlia in support.
“Your family became a part of my family when my brother introduced me to you, and you became my best friend.” Tinsley didn’t want to call out attention to the babies but wanted a way to acknowledge them.
“I will think of you whenever I hear your songs, when I incorrectly guess who the villain is in a romantic suspense novel, whenever it snows for the first time that year, and whenever I laugh so hard that I can hardly breathe. It is my honor to carry you in my heart for the rest of my days until I get to see you on the other side of Heaven. Thank you for being my best friend, Fi. I love you.”
Tinsley barely gets the final words out before the dam breaks, and I pull her into me.
She gasps for breath and holds back a sob, before composing herself enough that we can walk back to our seats.
Dahlia stands in front of Allie and opens her arms, Tinsley falling into them as the two women murmur things only they can hear.
Wells has been crying, but I suspect anyone with a heart in this church would fight a tear or two after hearing Tinsley’s tribute to her friend.
Fiona had left instructions when she set up her trust and was cremated following her own wishes.
She said she wanted her ashes scattered somewhere incredibly peaceful.
Wells suggested a secluded mountain top that overlooks a lake Fiona enjoyed visiting over the years.
It’s in a remote part of Colorado and is the perfect place for Fiona to rest—and still allows Dahlia to have a place to go back and pay her respects in a general sense.
When he mentioned it, both Dahlia and Tinsley knew the exact cabin Fiona liked to rent when she stayed there and agreed it was the perfect spot.
Dahlia decided she’s going to keep the urn until after the babies are born because it didn’t feel right for her to do that before they were officially here.
The babies.
It hasn’t been the right time to talk to Dahlia about the solution I intend to present to her, but I know both she and Tinsley are incredibly worried about what’s going to happen to Fiona’s babies.
Thank God, the press doesn’t know about them yet.
They have been vicious enough by assuming Dahlia inherited Fiona’s entire fortune, and they wouldn’t care if the heirs were unborn babies.
It would only make them even more feral than they already are for any ounce of information related to Fiona’s life and death.
I hate them all.
These gossip sites, like The Spill, are making a profit from Dahlia and Tinsley’s pain.
It has absolutely nothing to do with reporting news; it has to do with salacious gossip and speculation, regardless of truth or common decency.
It’s disgusting. They even paid Wells and Tinsley’s mother Bridget for an interview about Tinsley’s relationship with Fiona.
Bridget doesn’t know anything about their friendship—she doesn’t even know her own daughter—but she knows how to fake it enough to give a few sound bites to earn a check.
“I’m really worried about my daughter. She and Fiona had a delicate friendship, while they loved each other, they were fiercely competitive too.
This loss is devastating, and I hope Tinsley doesn’t lose herself in the process.
I can only hope and pray we can get through it together as a family.
” Bridget’s bullshit spread far and wide after that was posted two days ago.
The reality is, the only time Fiona and Tinsley were competitive was if they were playing a board game, specifically Monopoly.
The service wraps up and we manage to escape the throngs of people thanks to our security escorts, and with sunglasses in place, the five of us make the walk from the vestibule of the church to our SUV waiting at the curb.
As soon as we’re in the car, Dahlia asks if we can get out of the city and away from everyone.
I know just the place.