Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Grace awoke with a start to a clap of thunder so loud it practically rattled the windows in the old house. A quick, blinding flash of lightning struck, illuminating the entire sky as bright as if it were daytime. Then, as rapidly as it came, the vibrant blue hue of the lightning bolt was gone and the sky was dark again. Thunder clapped loudly once more as Grace rubbed her eyes trying to focus on the digital display of the alarm clock on the nightstand to her left; 2:44 a.m. glowed red back at her. She pushed off the quilt covering her and sat up in bed; simultaneously petting her dog, also awakened by the thunder and frightened to the point of shaking.

After she had Casey calmed down a bit, Grace swung around, putting her feet on the floor. The bare, wood floor felt pleasantly cool under her feet as she walked down the hall, lit only by the soft, yellow glow of the small nightlight plugged into the wall. Entering the bathroom, she fumbled around on the wall for the light switch as she pushed the door closed with her foot. The overhead light came on with a click; the sudden brightness causing her to squint until her pupils adjusted to it. She stood at the sink, turning on the faucet and letting cold water run over her hands; then cupping them together and splashing the gathered water onto her face. Dabbing at her face with the cornflower blue hand towel she grabbed off the towel rack on the wall, she blinked several times to focus on her reflection in the mirror in front of her.

Grace stared at herself for a few minutes, inspecting the imaginary wrinkles and flaws in her complexion - the things that no one but her seemed to notice. The thought of turning 30 years old was bothering her more and more the closer it got to her birthday. She imagined waking up on that morning feeling different somehow; as if twenty four hours could transform someone from a perpetual adolescent into a mature, responsible adult. In reality, Grace would be just as beautiful in 17 days as she was now. She was the only one who didn't see the sparkle in her big, almond-shaped, sapphire blue eyes; nor did she admire the uniqueness of the one dimple that formed in her right cheek when she smiled, revealing her perfect, white teeth and soft, pouty lips. The only attribute Grace ever appreciated at all was her long, thick, sun-streaked blonde hair.

Finishing up in the bathroom, Grace turned off the light before she opened the door, not wanting to wake Gram, whose bedroom was beside the bathroom. She tiptoed back to her room, closing the door behind her. She crawled back into bed, Casey curled up in a ball on the other side. Sleep came quickly for her; the sound of the heavy rain splattering and pinging as it hit the roof lulling her into a deep slumber.

Seven a.m. rolled around much more quickly than she would have hoped, but Grace made herself a promise to resume her early morning runs when she got here to Gram's house. She knew that she would not keep that promise if she put it off, even for her first day back. So she hoisted her tired body out of the comfortable bed, sitting on the edge of the bed just long enough to become fully aware and coherent; morning not being her favorite time of day. Casey used to love their morning runs together; the obedient dog keeping right at Grace's side, not really needing a leash. That was a good thing, because Grace decided to forego the leash this morning, frankly just too lazy to find where she put it; piles of clothing and other items strewn about the room until she actually forced herself to unpack. She dressed quickly, pulling her long hair back into a ponytail and lacing up her running shoes.

It was strangely quiet in the house, Grace thought as she made her way downstairs. Of course Adrienne was still snoozing away; that was a given. Some things never change, she chuckled to herself. It was not too early for Gram, though. She fully expected to see her seated at the table, sipping her bitter, black coffee while she waited for the toaster to pop up two slices of her homemade bread. But she wasn't there. Grace forced bad thoughts out of her mind, reasoning that she was a bit over-sensitive lately, especially since she made the decision to leave Michael. One of her worst qualities was questioning absolutely every major decision she had to make; not trusting her instincts, which are never wrong. It was past time for the intelligent, competent young woman to come into her own; to see herself as she really was, and to trust the feeling she got in her gut; that small voice that has such big secrets to tell.

Pushing all thoughts as far down as she could, she and her faithful companion walked out the back door and into the cool, crisp morning air. She inhaled deeply, remembering now how much she loved the scent of the salty, warm breeze coming off the ocean water and wafting through town. Grace stretched and warmed up while Casey had her morning potty break. Then the two of them began the trek down the long driveway, hanging a right on the road that would bring them directly into the quaint, little town of Aurora. Grace figured they would run the three miles to town, then stop for a coffee at that outdoor cafe she always liked so well.

Running was an escape for Grace, a much needed escape lately. It was the only time she didn't have to think about all the problems weighing on her; she simply put one foot in front of the other and sighed with relief when every thought vacated her mind and she could just...breathe. It had been a few months since she last ran; she could feel the effects of the inactivity as she pushed her way through to that place where pain or weariness doesn't even exist - the place where she was free of everything and she couldn't even feel her feet hitting the ground. She just seemed to float above the ground, through the air.

Grace surprised herself by actually making it into town, fearing for the last mile that she would collapse and her withered, dehydrated body would be found by some local redneck; the story of her demise only filling up a sixty second blog on the evening news. Thankfully, that didn't happen, and she got her coffee as planned; taking her time sipping the warm, sweet, and creamy liquid. Once she got going, she could genuinely appreciate the sedate quiet of early morning; so few people crossing your path. She finished her coffee, uneventfully, and she and Casey got started on their three mile walk back to the house.

She took her time meandering back to Gram's house, enjoying the warmth of the late spring sun and the solitude of the country road. There were fields of wildflowers growing on both sides; breathtaking pinks and purples, and vibrant yellows, all existing peacefully together. It served to provide Grace with precisely the atmosphere she needed right now; beautiful and free of problematic thoughts. She knew there was so much to do to fix her life and put her in that happy place she had only read about in books; she just preferred not to think about all of it now.

As she walked along at a leisurely pace, she could hear a car far off in the distance; the sound of its engine growing from a dull hum to a roar as it approached at high speed. When the car came into view, she could see the flashing blue lights of a police car and could recognize the colors of the local sheriff's department. She grabbed Casey's collar instinctively and guided her off the side of the dirt road and a few yards into the field, just as the car blew past them, throwing up dust in its wake. This was not a usual occurrence in the small town; seeing police cars flying down the country roads, lights flashing. Grace could not help but speculate as to its purpose, several scenarios coming to mind. Perhaps a botched robbery attempt, the bungling burglar not taking into account that everyone in these parts owned a gun and was trained in how to shoot it. She chuckled softly as she pictured in her mind the possibility of a husband catching his wife in the act of infidelity, chasing the naked man out of his house with a shotgun while the stunned wife called 911.

Her laughter and good humor came to an abrupt halt, however, as she rounded the bend in the road leading up to Gram's and passed a row of tall trees that lined that edge of the property. Before even reaching the driveway, she could see there were police cars everywhere, lined up on either side of the drive, as well as parked on the front lawn. There were uniformed officers walking in and out of the house, plain clothed cops talking to each other and scribbling notes in their small books, and an ambulance parked almost directly outside the front door, its back doors hanging open as if ready to load someone in on a gurney.

Grace could hear her heartbeat pounding rapidly in her ears and felt a lump rise up in her throat, threatening to choke her if she couldn't swallow it. The first thought that popped into her mind was Adrienne and her history of depression and suicidal tendencies.

"Oh God, Addie...please not again..." she said aloud to herself as she raced up the long driveway, her fear increasing with each stride, "Oh God. Please no. Oh God...please..." she repeated over and over, running as fast as her legs would take her.

Grace didn't stop running when she got to the end of the long driveway; her legs kept clipping along, though they threatened to buckle at any moment. It was as if she wasn't even occupying her own body; she was floating above everything, powerless, watching events unfolding in front of her. This all had to be happening to someone else, she rationalized. She had already met her quota for sad occurrences in this life. She was due no tragedy until reincarnation rendered her a viable soul again.

She ran until she plowed into two officers, the men having formed the human equivalent of a roadblock; catching Grace with a firm grasp, preventing her from going any farther.

"Let me go!" she screamed as she used every bit of strength she had trying to wrestle free of the officers' grasp, to no avail. "Dammit, Jimmy, let go! Cliff, come on!" she said through clenched teeth, still trying her best to wriggle free.

"You can't go in there, Grace." one of the officers, who had known her his whole life, replied in a tone suggesting that he might begin to cry, despite the fact that he was there in an official capacity.

"Why not, Cliff?!" she spewed sarcastically; but also sounded...desperate, fearful. "It's Addie...isn't it? Is she dead?" then added after pausing for just a second, waiting for an answer, "She's dead, isn't she? Just tell me...please." the last question meant for whomever may have the information she needed.

Time seemed to stand still as Grace waited for someone to explain to her what had transpired here at this house - her safe haven - in the approximately two and a half hours she had been gone. Looking around at the yard full of cops and emergency med techs, recognizing more faces than she didn't recognize, she could see the same expression on all their faces - a little bit of disbelief, a lot of empathy, and overall sadness. For a lingering moment, she fantasized about turning around and running like hell; not standing her ground and having to listen to something no one should ever have to hear. Grace had plenty of experience with extreme tragedy. Her life could practically be broken down into sections and made into a timeline of tragic events. There were times during which not even she knew how she would survive...but she always did. Amazing Grace. At least that's what her mother used to call her. My Amazing Grace, she would say.

She struggled in getting anyone to so much as hold her gaze for more than a fleeting moment, and it was obvious no one wanted to be the one who started this particular conversation. Finally, one of the detectives came walking out of the house, removing a pair of blue latex gloves as he did. He got them stuffed into his pocket just as he reached Grace; extending his hand for her to shake.

"Miss Devereaux..." he began, still maintaining a firm grip on her hand.

"Walker. I mean, my name is Walker." she corrected.

"My apologies, Miss Walker. I'm detective Matt Scheffield," he replied, finally loosening his grip enough for Grace to pull back her hand. "You know a Genevieve Devereaux and...uh...an...Adrienne Devereaux?" he quizzed her as he flipped through his little notepad, his gaze being met with a look of disgust from Grace, who needed him to give her information, not the other way around.

"Yes I do." she said in response to his question, hoping her disgust came through.

"It looks like we have a homicide and an attempted homicide, though we're still trying to determine the motive behind it. Of course, you will ultimately have to be the one to let me know if there is anything missing from the house, but as of yet, it doesn't play out like a standard robbery." he rambled until she cut him off.

"Detective Sheffield, I'm sure this is all very important, but...please..." she begged.

"Of course, I'm sorry. They were both shot at close range, Genevieve Devereaux once in the head and once in the chest...and I'm so sorry, but she has been pronounced dead here at the scene. You have my deepest condolences..." he continued, but Grace cut him off once more.

"And Adrienne? She's alive...?" the latter sounding more like a hopeful statement than a question.

"The younger Miss Devereaux was shot in the back of the head, but she is alive. Other than that, I don't know exactly what her condition is at this time. That's something you'll have to discuss with the ER doctor. Again, you have my sympathies. I am so sorry, Miss Walker" he offered sincerely.

"Grace...it's Grace." she breathed, as the reality of the situation began to sink in.

"Grace, I know this is not a good time, but I will need to ask you some questions." the detective informed her as gently as he could. This was the part of his job he absolutely loathed, but it was necessary. And he knew from experience that you really couldn't trust anyone in these situations, even family members, who were more often than not guilty of the crimes he was investigating.

"No...I understand. Of course." she told him, the words spoken in a monotone, shock beginning to set in. At this point, it felt to her like it was all happening to someone else. Either that or it was all simply a bad dream; one from which she would eventually wake up.

She did feel as if she were in some sort of dream state. As she surveyed the crowd, everything seemed to be happening in slow motion; people walking in and out of the house yet appearing to be doing nothing. They were merely walking around and, Grace thought, had expressions on their familiar faces that said they honestly had no idea in what capacity they were there. Nothing like this happened in Aurora. Bad things like murder happened to other people who lived in other places, not the people of this town. The last and only murder on the books took place in 1968, and it was an open and shut, the husband killed his wife kind of case. The only other death that was not of natural causes was a suicide that happened ten years ago. Other than that, nothing bad ever happened in Aurora.

Grace came out of her dazed and confused state quickly when she looked up from her feet,or the ground, or whatever she was staring downward at so intently, and saw two of the EMTs wheeling out a gurney. Riding on the gurney was a black body bag, zipped all the way up and definitely not empty. It was Gram. She knew it was. Even seeing the evidence right in front of her was not enough to convince her that Gram was actually gone, though. That was to come at a later date. In this moment, she just felt disbelief.

It took her a moment to realize that the detective was speaking to her. She shook off thoughts of Gram and asked him to repeat his last question with her apology for not hearing him.

"What is your relationship to Genevieve Devereaux, the deceased?" he asked her. "Are you also related to the younger Devereaux, Adrienne is it?" added the detective, determined not to formulate any opinion about Grace's potential involvement in the terrible crime...yet.

"Genevieve is...was...my grandmother and Adrienne is my first cousin, my mother's brother's daughter. Genevieve was her grandmother as well." Grace informed him, the words being spoken aloud bringing her closer to belief; a place she desperately did not want to go.

"So..." began Detective Scheffield, flipping through his little notepad again, "I know this property belongs to Genevieve Devereaux. Was your cousin just visiting...or did she actually reside here? Do you live here as well?" he asked, purposely trying not to sound accusatory. He had to do his job, unpleasant as that tended to be at times.

"I...um...well, I actually just got into town early last night. Adrienne was here when I got here and, from the look of things, she had been staying here. For how long, I couldn't say. I had come with the intention of staying for a while...I...uh...I have some personal problems to sort out." she answered honestly.

"Now, where were you coming from just now? What time did you leave the house this morning?" he queried in a more serious tone.

Grace could feel the intensity about to turn up; the detective's last question burning in her ears. Rationally, she knew he was only doing his job, but emotionally, it stung like an accusation. She couldn't help but feel Karma was playing the hand it was dealt...and she should have folded instead of played.

"I left just after 7 a.m. this morning: I ran into town, had coffee at Mr. Hansen's cafe on Washington street, then walked back - arriving just now, which you can clearly see." she threw back at him, thinking too late about not sounding sarcastic.

"Miss Walk...Grace...I apologize. I know this isn't the best time for you, but I have to ask some questions that, though unpleasant, are necessary to find out exactly what has happened here this morning." he offered as some sort of consolation.

There would be no consolation for Grace right now, though. She was sure the horror of it all was only beginning, too. Gram was dead. She was gone forever and her favorite granddaughter was going to be the one left to pick up the pieces. It was like a déjà vu and she had the starring role...again. The suicide on the books ten years ago...was her mother's suicide.

Grace knew that an appropriate reaction to all that was happening would probably be to break down and cry, become hysterical, even faint and fall to the ground. She knew that her reaction at this point was not any of those things. More than anything else, she felt numb. Nothing. In a way, perhaps she was hardened to sadness and tragedy by all the awful tragedies that had befallen her all of her life. She wondered how her numbness would be interpreted by the detective; what he would make of her lack of emotion in the wake of this tragedy. How long would it be before he got around to asking; for she was certain it was only a matter of time.

The sound of the detective's voice brought her back to the present, "Can you think of anyone who may have had a grievance against Genevieve or Adrienne? Anyone with a bone to pick?"

"No...I mean, I don't know...it's been a long time since I've been here. Honestly, I haven't even visited for quite a while. I'm not sure what I can tell you that would be of any use to you right now..." replied Grace. "I'm sorry, detective." she added, emotion bubbling to the surface, despite her efforts to remain calm.

At that moment, two more EMTs emerged from the house, wheeling out the second gurney. There was no body bag this time, however, the sight of her cousin with most of her head hidden by gauze and a tube shoved down her throat to sustain her breathing, made Grace feel physically ill. The once vivacious, spirited young woman now lay unconscious and clinging to life.

The detective must have noticed she was near the breaking point, for he pulled a business card out of his breast pocket and offered it to her, placing it in her hand gingerly when she extended an open hand to accept it.

"I'm sure you want to ride with your cousin in the ambulance. We're going to be busy here for a bit. Crime Scene is collecting any and all evidence considered pertinent. They are pretty thorough, so you can be confident that if there's anything here to find...they'll find it." the detective resolutely stated.

"Yes, I think I will go with them now..." Grace said, turning and gesturing toward the open ambulance doors. "May I call you after...after I see to Addie...Adrienne...after I discuss her...condition....with the doctors there?" she stumbled through, her voice cracking slightly.

"Of course. Take whatever time you need, just know that we need to get running on this case. I'm sure nailing this..." Detective Scheffield stopped himself, determining this was not the time to push Grace Walker's buttons. Let it soak in for now, he thought silently. Later...he decided.

 "Yes, you go ahead. Please give me a call at your earliest convenience." he finally settled on.

"Thank you, detective. You have my word. I just - I have to find out my cousin's condition. You understand, I'm sure." she assured him in return.

"Very well. Speak soon then." the latter more a statement than a question.

With that, the detective turned and started up the cobblestone walk to the front door of the house. For what was, in all likelihood, a considerably shorter period of time than was perceived by Grace, she lingered in the space she occupied, her feet planted firmly on the ground. She stared blankly ahead, her eyes somewhat out of focus, markedly spurious with all that was becoming known to her; her mind already comprising the facts of this atrocity - this savagery - that had claimed one life and still threatened another.

As she began to walk toward the ambulance, a question popped into her head; something so simple she overlooked it in all the chaos. "Detective? One question. How did you know? How did you all know this happened - that you were needed here?" Grace asked, speaking over the din of voices so he could hear.

"There was a 911 call placed from the house phone. The dispatcher noted what she believed to be a woman's voice, audible in the background, pleading with someone...then the line went dead. The first officer arrived on the scene within 9 minutes, but was unable to determine how the suspect, or suspects, fled from the scene. He assured me he passed no other vehicle on the road out; nor did he notice any dust one would normally see disturbed if a car had pulled into or out of the unpaved driveway." Detective Scheffield explained.

"Okay..." was all she could manage in response.

Grace made her way over to the ambulance and took the hand offered by one of the EMTs, stepping up into the vehicle and taking a seat on the bench beside the gurney. Her normally high-strung, spirited younger cousin now lay silent; clinging to the life she often purported to care very little about. She felt certain that, confronted with impending doom, Adrienne would change her mind regarding how much her life was worth to her. Sometimes people don't know what they have until threatened with the loss of it; whatever it may be. She prayed her Addie was in there - in that lifelessness she now saw; prayed she was there and ready to fight for her life. With that thought, she covered her face with her hands and welcomed the tears that finally came; sobbing unabashedly as the pain of such terrible loss and the dread of possibly more loss coursed through her like adrenaline.

She barely noticed the ambulance doors closing, or anything else that happened along the bumpy ride to the hospital. The entire trip took only about 15 minutes, though to her it may as well have been 15 hours. Grace had not been one to pray since she was a young girl. At some point during her tumultuous upbringing she simply ceased to believe in any forces outside of herself; and for her that encompassed mortal, as well as immortal, powers. Never had she felt comfortable imparting her fate upon anyone, particularly her mother. From an astonishingly young age, she discerned that there were people you couldn't trust and...there were people you shouldn't trust. Other than that, she didn't allow for any gray area that could potentially render her susceptible to constant disappointment at best, and imminent danger at worst. She never trusted any adult influence in her life. Not absolutely. The only one she relegated with her truth was Jesse. Sadly, there was no one else - not even Gram - from whom Grace expected anything other than a temporary solution, a quick fix. It was foreshadowing to what her life would become; a series of unfinished business and untapped potential.

The driver announced they were pulling up to the ambulance bay of the small, local hospital. This was the queue for the EMT riding in the back with her to get moving on preparing the gurney for an expedient removal from its current resting spot on the rails holding it securely in place for transport. She pulled her knees to her chest on the crude steel bench and held them close to make sure she stayed out of the way while the EMT gathered together the impromptu IV and any other relevant tubes and devices kept carefully in place during the short trip from the farm to the Emergency Room. Before she knew it, the two workers had the doors open and the gurney swiftly unloaded; one on each end as they wheeled it toward the open door, where several other nurses and technicians awaited its arrival.

Now surrounded by hospital staff, the gurney kept moving as they all shouted instructions back and forth; all the while forging a path directly to an open operating room, already prepped and ready to receive Adrienne for emergency surgery. Grace was also greeted at the door by a nurse who, without hesitation, began rattling off a series of questions concerning Adrienne's basic health information - any known allergies, problems tolerating anesthesia - all the usual questions someone close to the patient would plausibly know the simple answers to. She filled in the nurse to the best of her knowledge, then allowed herself to be ushered to a small, private waiting room. The nurse who escorted her told Grace her name was Julia - more than once - and made sure she was informed on where to find her should she need any further assistance. Julia did offer her very sincere apologies regarding the awful, seemingly senseless acts that resulted in her family member's current condition, however serious that was.

Then Julia was gone and Grace was alone for the first time since walking home to a crime scene; a crime scene still playing over and over in her mind, despite her fervent wish for it to cease. Part of her was relieved to be removed from the physical scene, but at the same time no part of her felt relieved at all. If she thought she wasn't certain of her next move before, she definitely hadn't a clue now. This didn't seem like the type of situation where everything would just fall into place without question. No...this was the type of situation that had to be carefully guided. That much was foreseeable. She just didn't know by whom it should be guided.

Trying to push down her insecurities as far as she could, she wiped her tear-stained face on the only thing she had, the light jacket tied around her waist. Normally she disliked the idea of being tied to a cell phone wherever she went; being reachable when she preferred being unreachable. But this time she was glad she had acquiesced and taken it on her run. Clearly it was going to be an indeterminate amount of time until she was granted access to Gram's house and her things. Even then, she was uncertain to what degree that access would be - to what degree she wanted it to be - considering the awful occurrence. All she felt capable of dealing with right now...was right now.

She unzipped the side pocket of her jacket and pulled out her phone, swiping the screen to unlock it. She hit speed dial #1 and slowly put it to her ear. It barely had time to ring twice before the person on the other end picked up.

"Grace?" inquired a deep, male voice.

"Jesse..." she began in a much more desperate voice than she could have imagined.