Eoin and Deirdre are talking about his life and relationship with Wendy. He tells her he had a twin sister.
“Angela. She died when I was four. A horrible accident, because of Mum’s habit. She was passed out on the couch and we got outside. Angela fell in the canal behind our house, and couldn’t get out. She got too close, lost her balance, as toddlers do, and fell in, and drowned. I sat there, screaming and crying while my older sister drowned. Mum didn’t hear the ruckus, slept through it all. A neighbor finally heard me, but it was too late.” Tears he’d thought long shed, threatened to fall. He hadn’t thought about his sister for nearly fifteen years. In a way, little Rowan reminded him of Angela—all big blue eyes and blonde curls.
“I’m so sorry. To lose a part of you like that, would be horrible.”
He nodded. “As I grew, I still felt her with me. After a bit, I could hear her voice. She’s grown as I have, and she’s a haughty bitch.” He shook back his hair, his face and aspect changing to a more regal mien.
“I’d love to watch you perform.”
“I’ll set it up when Fred gets home. He won’t be—shocked?”
Deirdre snorted, shaking her head. “He’s even less easy to shock than I am. He’ll enjoy the show. We saw a drag show in New Orleans. The women looked better than me, and that was before I had three boys!”
“You are the most beautiful woman I know.”
“Now I know you’re full of blarney.”
“Believe what you wish, I stand by my word. I should be getting home, though. I can take a cab.”
“Don’t be silly. I’ll take you. Will you load the washer? I’ll dress.” She pointed to the dishes.
“Love to. Still just as picky about how it’s loaded?”
“Still a dumb ass?” She cast over her shoulder.
Eoin sang as he loaded the dishwasher. He usually sang around the house, but hadn’t felt like it for some time. Now, he was in full voice. It was a sad, soulful song, but beautiful.
Deirdre stopped dressing, listening to him sing. His song brought tears to her eyes. When he got to the chorus of Broken Bones and Pocket Change, she was crying. It had long been a favorite of hers, and his voice added a dimension that the vocalist was missing.
Deep sorrow. Eoin’s pain is an abyss.
Finishing dressing, she grabbed her handbag and the envelope of papers she wanted to drop off with Vanessa. Stuffing them in the bag, she picked up her keys and declared herself ready. Eoin was already waiting by the door.
“You’ll have to tell me where I’m taking you.”
“Not a problem.” He gave her very specific and easy to follow directions.
“You can’t tell me all that now. I’ll get to South Daytona, then you turn on the Tom Tom.”
Eoin chuckled, “Yes, ma’am.”
“I do need to stop by the police station. Is that all right?”
They pulled up to the station and Eoin hopped out, opening Deirdre’s door before she could. He also opened the door to the station for her. Once inside, they waited at the window. An elderly, heavy set woman, with graying hair, lumbered into the room and over to greet them.
“Can I help you?”
“Yes, I need to see Detective Weinstein.”
“You have an appointment?”
“No. But I have some information for her, on the murder.”
“I can give it to her.” She didn’t hold out her hand, just stared at Deirdre.
“I’d like to give it to her, I have some questions.”
“She can’t answer about and on-going….”
“I realize that. May I see her, please?” She was fast losing patience with the woman. If stonewalling happened to be declared an Olympic sport, this woman would take the gold.
“I’ll ask.” She wandered to a desk and picked up the phone.
A phone rang in a back office. Deirdre assumed it was Vanessa’s. That was confirmed when the detective came out, smiling. She opened the security door, with a beep, ushering them both in.
“Hi there, Sue said you have something for me? Come on back. Coffee? Tea?”
“We just ate,” Deirdre said, glancing over her shoulder. She could swear she knew the woman in the office. She was really familiar. A light bulb seemed to go on in her mind. Suddenly, a very important question was answered.
“What can I do for you?” Vanessa invited them to sit in her small office.
“More what I can do for you,” Deirdre said quietly, handing her the manila envelope she carried. “It was bothering me, wondering how Troy managed to get miraculously freed every time he was arrested. Except this time. So I did some digging.”
© 2018 Dellani Oakes