Cut (12 page)

They got out and walked towards the structure. Leaves of gold and red scattered on the ground in a romantic flurry. Up close, the lake reflected the rotunda and the columns in the shimmering blue water. She tucked her arms around her chest and retreated to her thoughts. The scene broke her heart. To think Melanie had experienced such ugly pain at the hands of someone she trusted enough to meet here after dark, drove all the questions into one three letter word.

Why.
Why did Melanie come here?

The very next thought stole Jessie's breath.

I might never know.

Not knowing was worse than having an answer, even if it's the one you didn't want to hear.

As if he sensed her discomfort, Brent put his arm around her. “We don't have to go look around. We can leave if you want.”

Comforted by his strength for the second time since they'd been at the hospital, she let him hold her. “I want to see.”

“The attack happened in the rotunda.”

“Will you come with me?”

“Of course.”

A path led to the rotunda. People clad in coats and scarves walked by them. Others took photos, obviously oblivious to the pain building inside her. Pain she couldn't yet share.

They approached the actual rotunda and stopped. Jessie didn't know what she expected to find. She imagined there had been police cars in the parking lot, crime scene tape between the columns, and evidence markers. But the tape was gone, there were no police cars, and the ground looked only scuffed by shoe marks.

Jessie stepped under the rotunda and marveled at the size and details carved into stone. The size of the Palace astounded her. The columns made her feel small; her heart a tiny organism beating inside her. The many trees surrounding the Palace fluttered leaves like tiny gold hearts into the wind. A group of women posed in the center with a selfie stick; an elderly couple held hands. Everyone surrounding her lived while her sister hovered on the brink of death.

One glance and Jessie knew she had to look beyond the obvious. There wasn't anything here significant enough to give her a clue about what Melanie had done here. Jessie liked the place though. It gave her a sense about her sister's life. Melanie loved art, and history, and cities, and of course she would come to something like this.

“See anything of significance?” Brent said.

“Well not immediately. I'm thinking about medical school.”

“Medical school?”

“I did have a few takeaways.”

“Like what?”

“Doctors and detectives have more similarities than you might think. A doctor will use symptoms to diagnose an illness and a detective will rely on clues to catch a perpetrator. They are really one and the same thing. Both require problem-solving skills; both need to learn as many facts as possible. They are both in the business of looking further than what the surface shows. The smallest detail can sometimes be the most important.”

“Okay, doctor, what clues do you see? Is there anything the police might have missed?”

She frowned. “I see a well-known place. A big place with lots of room for hiding and going unseen. One person stood and waited for her. Someone aware of her small frame. He's bigger than she is, and he's smart. He knew Luke wasn't home. He lured her out and she came either because she knew him or she feared what he would do to her or her family. Anyone could hide behind those columns. I'd be willing to bet he lives in the city, too. Maybe he even tracked the patterns of the park police at night.”

“I agree.”

“I also think Melanie brought something with her. Maybe she tried to protect something or someone. Luke comes to mind in an indirect way. The diamonds and rare gems he keeps in his house might have caught the attention of the wrong person. There's no way to get into his house from what my mother told me, so this person needed to get the jewels moved from the inside of the house to the outside. Did Luke have anything like those diamonds you showed me?”

“Yes, he did. We always have those.”

“Were any of them missing?”

“I can't tell you.”

“You have to!”

“It's business.”

She grew infuriated. “I'll try a different question. Is Luke keeping anything from my mother or from me?”

“What you're really asking is if Melanie took gems from her home.”

“Yes, I suppose so. What do you think?”

“It's unlikely. We have passcodes and safeguards in place against her having access. To jump to a conclusion that she took something from Luke's vault is careless and doesn't work. She didn't have access. Period.”

She twisted her hands together. “I want to talk to the police about this.”

“Go right ahead.”

“My sister might die and I can't stop that. Earlier you asked me to be honest with you and tell you if I knew anything. The same goes for you. You suggested we work together, which means I'm begging you to tell me if there's anything
I
need to know.” She exhaled a heavy sigh. All this anger and emotion and unanswered questions took up so much energy. The expression on his face—indifferent to her plea—added to her source of annoyance.

“You'll have to talk to the detective in charge of the investigation.”

“But I'm not asking the police. I am asking you. Tell me. Tell me there was something in Luke's vault that justifies someone attempting to end my sister's life. Those gems at her house are the only thing that makes sense. You know it and so do I.” Jessie hadn't allowed herself to cry, but damn, the tears started to build.

Straight-faced, he looked at her and said, “There's nothing we own worth more than her life.”

She threw up her hands so he wouldn't see her start to cry. “I need to walk around. By myself.”

They turned their backs to each other and went their separate ways.

Jessie found a rail to lean on and look out on the water. A man and his wife stopped next to her and reviewed a brochure. She couldn't help but overhear their conversation.

“The original Palace of Fine Arts was built during a time of extreme conflict,” the man said. “The exposition was supposed to bring the city together. The architect deliberately made this place to be one of sadness and reflection. Look up there,” he said, moving her out of the rotunda and to the outside. He pointed to the top, to one of many carvings of ladies. Jessie looked up as well.

“She's known as the Weeping Lady.”

“They're everywhere,” the woman said. “They're so sad.”

“The Palace wasn't supposed to remain after the exposition. Most of the original structure got torn down. Imagine half of the grand rotunda cut down the middle and nonexistent.”

“How did she get saved?”

“Someone stepped up and contributed a generous donation.”

A donation, is that what Melanie's attacker had wanted? Money? She shook her head. Luke had plenty of money. The person had to have wanted something else, an expensive piece of jewelry or at least a diamond, like the one still in her pocket. Why else would Melanie have made such an effort to give it to her? The very same diamond Brent refused to tell her about had to have come from Luke's home.

The couple continued on their way. Jessie gazed up at one of the weeping ladies. A tarnished nose and sunken, stone eyes. She shivered at what felt like a reminder of her sister. The air tinged her cheeks and she could see her breath.

The more questions she asked of Brent, the more they fought. He knew something about the night of Melanie's attack, or at least about the green diamond, she was sure.

There was nothing more to see and Jessie returned to meet Brent at the entrance. “I'd like to get in touch with Melanie's friends and acquaintances. I want to make sure the people in her life are aware of what's happened to her.”

“Kendra's taking care of that,” Brent said.

“My mother and I appreciate the help, however, Melanie and I might have childhood friends in the area Kendra may not know about. I'm thinking of one friend in particular. Her name's Elizabeth. Did Melanie ever mention any friend from back home with this name?” She watched him for a reaction.

“I'm not the right person to ask. Melanie didn't talk much about her past. She and Luke had a reception after they got married. I think people from your home in Fresno attended, so Elizabeth might have been there, if she was from your group of friends.”

The thought of Melanie having a reception stung. The fact that people from their hometown attended hurt worse. “They had a reception,” she repeated in a quiet voice.

“Of course they did.”

She knew Melanie had gotten married, but to hear it from Brent got to her. A line cracked down her heart and threatened to break wide open. She refrained from asking any further questions. Each question she asked was a reminder of how much she'd missed out on.

“You should talk to Kendra about the guest list.”

“I will.”

“Is there anything else you'd like to ask me?”

“No, unless by some small chance you have someone in your family or Luke's immediate circle named Elizabeth.”

“Why is this Elizabeth so important to track down?”

“It's personal. A family matter.”

Brent's cell phone rang. He looked at the screen. “Excuse me,” he said, and stepped away.

Jessie decided to walk around. The rotunda led to another walkway guarded by columns on both sides. To her left a line of people formed to go indoors and to her right the path continued. She chose that direction.

The wind blowing haunted her. It blew her hair in her face and swept over her shoulders. She tried to make sense of everything, but confusion filled her thoughts. She stared ahead of her, like she wore glasses with a special filter that dazed her surroundings. How quickly everything in her life had changed. This time last week she'd been planning her wedding. Her sister had been fine. The Palace of Fine Arts had probably not even been on her radar.

“Hey,” Brent said, touching her arm.

Jessie snapped out of her haze. “Yes?”

“That was Luke. He said there's still no change in Melanie. They're going to keep her in the ICU for now. Do you want to go see her?”

“I'd like to go to the hotel first.”

Brent wrapped his arm around her and held her close. “You have to see her at some point, you know.”

“I know.” Jessie's nose butted against his jacket. She breathed him in, the fall day trapped in the fibers of his coat. She could stay like this forever. With his arms around her, she didn't have to face what would come next.

“Come on,” he said, running his hand down her back. “Let's get out of here.”

He drove her back to the Crowne. They parted at the car and he went his separate way. They didn't plan to meet or talk again.

The hotel room gave Jessie the solace she craved. The visit to Brent's home, the jewelry store, and the Palace of Fine Arts had zapped the energy right out of her. She was hungry too and ordered room service.

* * * *

The late afternoon sun cast a golden spell over her room. The dirty dish from her meal sat on the dresser. At least her stomach felt better and the food renewed some of her spirit.

She sat on her bed and took out the diamond. Now that she knew what she had, she wanted to protect it all the more. The diamond she held up to the light. The facets lit up and deepened with each flick of her fingers. “I want to know what makes you so important,” she said. “My sister is in a coma because of you and Brent used her daughters to try and make me a deal. All because of you.”

The very thought of Brent sent a
swoosh
of warmth through her stomach. The way he'd held her at the Palace. The best thing to do would be to stay away, but she knew herself. She knew she couldn't, not when he was hiding something. Maybe she could find out more information from him without giving away her position. Maybe she could get him to trust her.

The cell phone lit up with a message. Carl had returned home. Jessie took her mind off one problem and dredged up another. She called him.

“I'm about to start my shift,” Carl said.

“Good to hear you made it back without delay.”

“Yup.”

“I've thought about what you said.”

“Jess,” he said with impatience, “I'm about to work. Let's talk later.”

That wasn't good enough. “Why didn't you tell me about the job offer?”

“I wanted to accept the position.”

“You mean you wanted to accept it without me.”

Painful silence.

“I don't know, maybe.”

“If you wanted to give me a way out you should have told me.”

“I didn't want a way out…I wasn't counting on the job opportunity.”

“Doesn't that say something about our relationship? You should have fought to keep me in the loop, in your life, and with a huge decision affecting our future. You didn't.” When he didn't answer, Jessie pushed the topic, “Answer me.”

“Eight years is a long time to be with someone.”

Oh no.

The tone. The preamble to the end of their relationship. She held her breath.

“You and I are different people. We aren't the same as when we first met. You wanted to be a doctor.”

“What does becoming a doctor have anything to do with feelings? You know what I think? I think if you truly loved me you wouldn't be obsessed with my career choice.”

“Fine; I'm guilty. You're right. The job in Singapore made me think about us. It made me realize that somewhere along the way I just fell out of love with you.”

“Yet you proposed. You've been going along with the engagement, all the while having doubts. If Melanie's accident hadn't happened, we'd be walking down the aisle.”

“You would have come with me to Singapore. We would have figured it out.”