The Sisters’ Secrets: Rose

‘Thanks for coming by,’ she said. ‘We haven’t officially met yet.’

Rose offered her hand. ‘Nice to meet you. Please call me Rose.’

‘Does your family live in the area?’

‘Just me.’ Rose knew that there was information in Pearl’s chart about their family, but she sensed Jessie wanted to talk to someone. Maybe connect.

Rose was happy to oblige. It was her way. ‘My father passed away years ago, and my sister lives…’ Rose trailed off. She had no idea where Reen lived now. Reen bounced around to more places than a flight attendant. Hell, she could even be a flight attendant for all Rose knew. ‘My sister lives out of town. She doesn’t visit much.’ Or ever.

Jessie stuck out her lip. ‘That’s a shame.’

Bruce, one of the male residents, leaned over his wheelchair, trying to grab a nearby cane.

‘You’ve got a runner,’ Rose said.

Jessie jolted. ‘I better get on that.’ She gave Rose a little wave then took off.

Rose took one last glance at Pearl before leaving. As Rose walked down the hallway, her chin trembled, and she cursed to herself as she dug into her purse for a tissue.

Rose was only half an hour late for work that morning. The return traffic was a bit slower, caused by construction and weather. The last-minute repairs were necessary to keep the flow of tourists into the quiet beach towns. The sudden down-pouring rain slowed the cars to a crawl. And it especially did nothing for her mood.

The Siren restaurant was on the far side of The Burrow, right on the water’s edge.

It was the only mermaid-themed restaurant nearby, adding to the lore surrounding the town. Tourists loved the sea-themed decor and the aptly named menu items – Under the Sea-weed Salad, Dive-In Antipasto, Boatload of Nachos, to name a few.

Rose parked near the street, not wanting to take away the closer spots from customers. Entering through the back of the restaurant, she punched in on the time clock before removing her coat and placing her sopping mess of a jacket onto the hook by the door.

‘Rosie, that you?’ Missy called from the kitchen.

‘Yeah,’ Rose said and pushed through the double doors into the kitchen. ‘Want me to start in the dining room?’

‘How’s Pearl?’ Missy asked.

A pinching sensation in her chest stopped her in her tracks. It was a good thing Missy was busy cleaning the counters. Even though Rose had washed them the night before, Missy was a perfectionist and germophobe. While she worked, she kept her blonde hair back from her face with a battered baseball cap.

‘She’s fine,’ Rose said.

Missy turned, digging her hand into her hip. Her freckled cheeks flushed. ‘They called you this morning because she’s fine?’

Rose grabbed the bucket of clean utensils. ‘She fell, I guess. Sprained her wrist. But she’s okay.’

Missy chewed on her lip and stared at her shoes before lifting her gaze to her best friend. ‘Glad to hear it.’

Rose sighed. Missy knew well enough to leave some things alone.

A rumble of thunder vibrated the utensils in the nearby clean bucket.

Missy tsked. ‘Not sure we’re going to get a lot of customers today.’

Rose grabbed the bucket and held it against her hip. ‘I can handle it once the rest of the staff comes in if you want to leave early.’

Missy nodded. ‘Jake’s supposed to call today.’

‘What time? I’m sorry I dragged you out of bed.’

Missy waved a dismissive hand. Jake’s phone calls from overseas came sporadically, but Rose knew Missy didn’t want to miss one conversation with her husband who was on tour in the Middle East.

‘I’ll get the dining room set up,’ Rose said, grateful for the reprieve. She pushed through to the dining room and pulled the cords of each of the shades that covered the massive bay windows, giving customers a view of the stretch of ocean. The outside patio seated most of the customers. In the summer months, people packed those seats from lunch through to dinner. Between the awning and the view, most preferred sitting outside. With the constant breeze across the Atlantic and the fans hung from the canopy, it was the perfect place to share a meal.

As she took the chairs from on top of the tables lining the interior dining room, Rose recalled the last meal she had with Mom at the house. It wasn’t her fondest memory of her mother. Pearl had snapped in the middle of the meal, shouting, and telling Rose to get out of her house. After ending up on the sharp end of a plastic knife – thankfully Rose had switched them a week before – Rose had no choice. She’d needed help.

Shaking those thoughts from of her head, she went to the serving station to start organizing. As she rolled the forks and knives into little napkin burritos, the storm outside raged.

A shiver rolled down her spine as the waves crashed against the rock jetty near the outdoor patio.

Storms always did this to her; ever since she was little and almost drowned in the ocean. Admittedly, she was more happy than sad when she finally moved out of her childhood home. No more danger right at her door. She preferred her walk-up apartment on the second floor of the widowed Mrs. Collins’s house.

Even though she no longer had a view of the ocean, she always felt it. It was something ingrained in her that not even a brush with death could stop. Coming to work at The Siren gave her that little hint of exhilaration while not forcing her to her knees in terror. It was a thin line, but she’d dealt with it. She was the only one who could take care of her mother. The only one who wanted to.

The napkin slipped from her trembling hands three times before she got it right.

Sometime later, Donnie, the 22-year-old busboy, sauntered into the dining room. He flipped the rest of the lights on and crossed into the kitchen, tying his chin-length brown hair to the nape of his neck before winking at Rose.

Holding back an eye roll, she pressed her lips together in what she hoped appeared as a polite smile.

He’d made moves on her, several times before. And much to his dismay, Rose turned him down every single time. He was cute but too young. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to handle the six-year age gap.

Though, some days, it felt like much more than that. Between caring for her ailing mother and working to pay the bills, there wasn’t time for dating. She was a spinster in the making, and it didn’t help that Missy constantly berated her about going on dates.

It wasn’t as if she wanted to be alone. She wanted love. More than she cared to admit. She had a specific picture in mind for her perfect relationship. It mirrored her parents to a T.

Pearl and Ben had been inseparable and even after years together, they were as in love as they were when they’d met.

There was no way she was getting that in The Burrow. The townies knew too much of her childhood, and tourists weren’t looking for long-term commitments. She knew that firsthand, and she’d never cross that bridge again.

The door opened, distracting her from her thoughts. Serving customers kept her mind busy. Missy had capitalized on the locals, offering sandwiches for reasonable prices during the off-season. It kept her employees paid and Rose from drowning in bills. She’d had more than enough to thank Missy for in her life.

Later that afternoon, after Rose insisted that Missy go home before her actual shift that evening, the lull in the flow of customers was a welcome retreat. While Rose didn’t want to think about Pearl, she felt a little sick when she forgot about her, even for a few minutes.

The bell above the side door jangled, shattering all thoughts of Pearl.

Two police officers walked through the doors. Even though they both had Town of Burrow patches stitched on the arms of their navy-blue shirts, she only recognized one of them. The other had his back turned and typed furiously on his phone.

Chief of Police, Patrick McCreary, met her eyes and nodded his head. A rotund man in his fifties, he had been around her house a lot during Rose’s teen years when Reen found herself in trouble more than a few times. Things had quieted down tremendously in the years since her departure, both at home and in town.

He removed his hat and droplets of rain slid to the floor. He smoothed down the few strands of hair left on his head.

‘Afternoon, Patrick,’ Rose said.

‘Rose,’ Patrick said. ‘It’s good to see you.’

The other officer turned around. A stone-faced guy, closer to her age than Patrick’s. His nose was thicker in the middle, looking as if he’d been in a lot of fights as a kid. His dark hair was thick and shaggy at the top of his head but buzzed on the sides. Otherwise, he was cleanly shaven. He looked more like a tourist than a local. The way his eyes darted across the restaurant confirmed it.

Rose suppressed a smile. If he was looking for crime in this place, he was about to be sorely disappointed.

‘I’m Rose,’ she said, leading them to a window booth.

‘Shane Cassidy.’ He offered his hand.

She took it. ‘Nice to meet you.’ His rough hand brushed over hers. She drew in a sharp breath and nearly dropped the menus. ‘I have a seat right over here for you,’ Rose said, trying to recover. It wasn’t as if many attractive men came to town to stay more than the summer.

Patrick slid into the booth. As she moved out of the way, she focused on Shane. For a second, she thought she noticed a lumbering in Shane’s gait, but when his eyes lifted to hers, she glanced outside, trying to hide the heat on her cheeks. The rain had slowed, but the sun had yet to peek through the clouds.

She dropped two menus on the table.

Patrick barely glanced at the plastic menu. That was the way it worked in The Burrow. You could tell the tourists from the townsfolk in seconds.

‘What’s good here?’ Shane asked.

‘Everything,’ Rose and Patrick said at the same time.

Patrick chuckled as Shane raised his thick eyebrows. ‘That’s helpful.’

Rose smiled at the joke, but he didn’t. He wasn’t teasing.

Rose cleared her throat. ‘Can I get some water for the table?’

‘Sure,’ Patrick said, smiling up at her with his grayish teeth. ‘And I’ll have a coffee too.’

‘I’ll be back to take your order.’ Rose crossed the room to prepare the waters and coffee.

‘Patrick,’ Mrs. Miller said from two booths over. She and her husband came into The Siren several times a week. An older couple in their sixties, they ran the antique and used bookstore closer to the town center.

‘Good afternoon, Sally,’ Patrick said, nodding toward them.

‘Who’s the new guy?’ Mr. Miller asked.

‘You know I’m retiring,’ Patrick said. ‘Shane here will be taking my position as chief come the summer.’

‘No kidding,’ Mr. Miller said.

‘What he means is, we’re happy to have you,’ Mrs. Miller said to Shane.

His jaw tensed; even Rose could sense his discomfort across the room. Newcomers to The Burrow weren’t used to the level of nosiness around these parts.

While the Millers went back to their clam chowder, Patrick and Shane continued their conversation.

Rose approached the table with two glasses of water and their utensils, trying not to make it appear as if she were eavesdropping.

‘You’re not in the big city anymore,’ Patrick said to Shane.

‘Oh? I had no idea.’ Shane leaned against the back of the booth and grunted. He glared out the window.

‘Ready to order?’ Rose asked.

‘Yeah,’ Shane said without looking her in the eye. He flipped over the one-page lunch menu. ‘Burger, medium.’

‘You want fries with that or a salad?’

Shane looked at Rose as if she’d sprouted two heads. ‘Fries.’

Rose leaned toward Patrick. ‘Soup and grilled cheese with bacon?’

‘You know me,’ Patrick said, handing over the two menus.

Rose took them and turned to Patrick. ‘You’re retiring? I had no idea.’

‘Yes, but Shane here is a great replacement. His father and I met at the academy. Been good friends ever since.’

‘Really?’

Shane scoffed. ‘We’re all one big happy family.’

She met Shane’s eyes. They were so brown that the pupils were barely discernable.

‘But Shane joins us from New York City. He’s well trained and perfect for The Burrow,’ Patrick said.

‘Not sure about perfect,’ Shane said, twirling his sunglasses over the slick wooden surface.

‘Let me put your order in,’ Rose said before skittering away. She walked through the swinging doors to the kitchen where Brody, Missy’s younger brother, was cleaning the grill.

‘Medium burger with fries and a Patrick special,’ Rose said, writing down the order on her pad and handing it over to him.

‘You got it,’ Brody said, turning his ice-blue eyes on Rose. Those who didn’t know the three-year age difference thought Missy and Brody were twins. Because of her friendship with Missy, Rose always felt a sisterly bond with Brody.

He and Reen had dated for a while in high school, but he was small-town. His family had lived in the same house for generations, a beautiful old colonial near the edge of town. Missy and Brody weren’t going anywhere. Reen couldn’t get out fast enough.

Rose glanced out the passthrough window at Patrick and Shane. ‘Did you know Patrick was retiring?’

‘I heard it around town,’ Brody said, slapping a pre-formed patty on the grill. The sizzling and popping sounds made her stomach growl.

‘I can’t imagine it,’ Rose said.

‘Times are changing.’

‘Yes. Yes they are.’ More than Rose ever wanted to admit.

Chapter 2

Rose left the restaurant at around 5 p.m. A spike in customers kept her busy until the end of her shift.

On the way to her car, she checked her phone for the hundredth time that day. She wondered if she should head back to the Whinding House to see Mom again or save it for tomorrow.

Even though she’d eaten one of the cast-off sandwiches that Brody had burned, she was still hungry. But her mind was too distracted, making her indecisive.

She drove to the library, intending to check out a few books to occupy her evening. As her nightly routine, Rose turned to wine and books before bed. Both numbed her mind and dulled her senses so she could escape to another place, far, far away from The Burrow. She loved her home, but with everyone knowing her business and asking about Pearl, by the end of the day she needed a break.

The rain hadn’t let up much, and she slowly navigated her car through the streets of the town. She leaned forward, peering through the sheets of rain pelting her windshield.

Those caught outside during the storm hurried across the sidewalks to find cover, huddling under jacket hoods and umbrellas. At least Rose wasn’t the only person annoyed with the weather. As she pulled into the parking lot of the library, a figure appeared in front of her car.

Rose slammed on the brakes, skidding to a stop inches from the person.

Her heart threatened to beat from her chest as her hands gripped the wheel tight enough to stretch the skin over her knuckles, turning them white. She caught her breath, gulping in as much air as possible.

Shoving the door open, she stumbled outside. ‘I’m so sorry. I didn’t see you there. Are you okay?’ Rose shivered as the rain soaked her from head to toe within seconds.

The woman wore little more than a black tank top and jogging shorts. She had long, almost black hair, which clung to her like a python, wrapping around her waist and one of her arms.

‘Did I hit you?’ Rose called over the noise of the downpour. ‘If you’re hurt, I can drive you to the hospital.’

The woman turned, and Rose sucked in a breath. The woman was much younger than Rose had initially thought. She was a teenager. Her lithe body shrunk away from Rose.

‘Or I can call someone?’ Rose glanced around, hoping that no one had seen her nearly hitting someone. She feared that everyone might think she was on an early path toward Pearl’s tendencies.

But when she turned to the girl again, she was gone.

On the drive home, the sky cleared enough that Rose turned off the rapid speed of the wipers. The familiar streets no longer offered her comfort. She scanned the area, pausing on each person walking through town. She searched for the girl who had appeared and disappeared quicker than Rose could blink. She took the long way home, winding through the streets of town, desperate to see the girl one more time. At the very least, she wanted to be sure she hadn’t hurt the girl, but from the way she left without a trace, Rose didn’t understand why she was so worried.

It wasn’t until she passed the pier that her entire body broke out in gooseflesh.

Rose almost wished it was raining, so that she could have easily mistaken the long-haired girl for someone – or something else. She swung the wheel to the right and slammed her foot onto the brake. Crackling debris ricocheted off the bottom of her car as it skidded to a stop. After throwing the car into park, she flung the door open.

The breeze coming off the restless sea after the storm filtered through her already damp hair. Ice swirled down her spine.

Her reaction wasn’t just from seeing the girl again, who stood on the top railing of the pier – a dangerous feat even for a daredevil. Since the rocks were barely visible under the surface of the water, there was no way this girl would survive unscathed if she fell.

‘Hello,’ Rose called, cupping her hands over her mouth.

The girl glanced over her shoulder, locking eyes with Rose. Her expression was clear, almost regretful. Rose’s heartbeat thrashed in her ears. What was the girl doing?

Numbness seized Rose’s limbs, and she stood next to the car. ‘Come down from there, I can –’

Before she could finish, the girl lunged forward, falling into the open air.

Rose cried out and bolted toward the pier, unable to take her eyes off the girl as she plummeted into the water.

Rose stopped at the edge of the pier, gripping the wooden railing, even though the rough edges bit into her hands. An ache bloomed in her chest, and she held her breath.

The scene before her changed, throwing her back in time to when the moon was high and she could feel the water pressing against every inch of her body. Black spots exploded in her vision. Nausea overtook her, but she swallowed it down. Opening her eyes again, she scanned the watery depths. There was no sign of the girl.

But there had to be. Rose scoured every single movement of the water. There was no way the ocean could have taken her out that quickly. Was she injured and stuck under the pier, out of Rose’s vision?

Rose stood, transfixed by what had just happened. She waited for the girl to come up again. But she didn’t.

Heat moved behind Rose’s eyes.

She waited for a second more before she sprinted back to her car, grabbing her cell phone. She should have thought of it earlier. There was no way Rose could save the girl, but at least someone could try.

Dispatch picked up the line.

‘I need to report an accident,’ Rose said through choking breaths.

As the dispatcher asked her questions, Rose answered them, only seeing the girl’s eyes staring back at her, somehow thinking all of this was her fault.

‘Rose Barros?’ a gruff male voice cut through her.

Rose glanced up from her lap. Shane Cassidy stood there. A notebook rested in his hand with a pen in the other.

This was really happening. ‘Yes.’ The tips of her fingers were still numb, and the spot where she’d plucked out a wood sliver radiated with pain.

An ambulance and three police cars surrounded Rose’s car, blocking all possibility of escape. Though, as the only witness, she had a duty to help the police find the girl.

‘I’d like to go over what happened here.’

‘Sure,’ she said, sitting up straighter. She hadn’t moved from her seat since the incident. For some reason, her legs refused to follow orders. It was probably a good thing. Going back to the pier would only stick a knife further into her heart. As it was, she’d had trouble taking a full breath since it happened. Her body responded as if she were the one who had fallen.

‘Start at the beginning,’ he said, looking at her through his large sunglasses.

Her reflection stared back at her. In the small image, her eyes were wide, and her lips tugged downward.

She blinked and cleared her throat. ‘I saw her earlier.’

‘The victim?’ he asked.

Her teeth dug into her lip. ‘Yes. I almost ran into her at the library.’

‘You knew her?’

‘No. I literally almost ran into her. With my car. It was raining. She came out of nowhere.’

Shane’s lips pursed as he started to write on the small wire-bound pad in his hands. At least his penetrating gaze wasn’t on her anymore. ‘What happened after that?’

Rose shook her head. ‘I, um, looked away for a second and she was gone.’

Shane sniffed and poised his pen on the pad. ‘Okay. What happened after she disappeared?’

Rose went over every single moment from parking her car at the library, the time she’d spent there, and seeing the girl at the pier. ‘I called out to her. I thought she heard me. She looked at me and then jumped.’

‘She jumped?’

‘Yes.’

‘She didn’t slip?’

Rose shook her head. ‘I supposed she could have.’ Though, what was she doing up there if she didn’t plan on jumping?

Shane squatted in front of her. He was tall enough that he was at eye level. ‘Did she go head first or feet first?’

‘Head,’ Rose said after a moment.

Shane stood up again and wrote furiously on his pad.

‘Do you think they’ll find her?’

Shane sighed. ‘If you want my honest answer, I don’t think she’s coming out of there.’

A choked gasp escaped Rose’s mouth.

‘Hey.’ He reached for her, but stopped, his hand hovering in the air between them. ‘This isn’t your fault.’

‘I’m not so sure about that.’ I could have stopped her if I wasn’t such a damn coward.

‘If she wanted to jump, then that was her choice. If you hadn’t come along, she probably would have done it anyway.’

‘Shane,’ one of the officers called and Shane walked over to him.

Rose took the momentary reprieve to turn her head to the side. Tears threatened to fall, but she stared up at the ceiling of her car, refusing to cry in front of all these people.

When Shane returned, she’d regained her composure, at least as much as she could.

‘Is there anything else you remember about the girl from the library to the pier? Her reactions, emotions? Did she seem distressed?’ Shane asked.

Rose wiped at her nose. ‘No. I can’t think of anything right now.’

Shane tucked the pad into his pocket. ‘If you do, call the precinct. The number isn’t hard to remember.’ He smirked, but she didn’t return it.

She wasn’t sure if she’d ever smile again.

Shane sauntered away with his thumbs hooked in his belt as if he were already the chief.

Patrick appeared in her rearview mirror lifting the crime scene tape over his head before stepping past the line. Somehow, she found her legs again. She stood up and wobbled slightly before waving him down.

‘Rose,’ Patrick said, coming over to her. ‘How are you doing? Do you want to talk?’

An ache formed in her head. ‘Not really. At least not right now. Am I free to go?’

‘Did you give a statement?’

Rose nodded, feeling her mouth dry up like there were cotton balls stuffed inside.

‘Then you’re good to go.’ The skin around his eyes crinkled. ‘I can have someone accompany you if you want?’

‘No, that’s okay. You need help here. I hope they find her.’

‘Me too,’ he said and waved a hand at the officer standing by the tape. ‘You’re clear to drive through.’

‘Thanks.’

As she drove away from the pier, Rose stared at the road ahead. There were plenty of familiar faces in the crowd. It wasn’t a sight that any resident saw on a routine basis. The last time Rose saw a crime scene was on the news.