The Devil's Bride (Book 1)

Chapter 20- Perfect Storms

THIRD PERSON

The clamorous downfall of rain began as Helena and Peter stepped back into the living room, their eyes darting around the room, searching for clues, evidence, anything that could lead them to the basement. The one place the killer had been in that video footage. Flipping mounds of clothes and piles and stacks of old books and old empty photo albums, the two of them searched desperately for something, anything. Peter lifted his head as he opened a timeless classic from the shelf.

"Found anything yet?" He spoke, flipping through the pages with care. Helena tilted her head, before returning to read through a small calendar diary she picked up from the corner of the kitchen counter. She pointed aimlessly at multiple pages, only sighing slightly. Peter closed the book, tossing it back into the bookshelf behind him. He focused his attention towards the window, watching the rain pour down into the backyard of Luke's home. Helena stopped reading.

"Unless you call doctor's appointments and visiting his mother clues, then sure." She sighed, closing the calendar. "We really have nothing." She rose to her feet, stepping forward towards Peter. He had perched himself on the floor by the window sill, staring wondrously out towards the worn out grass, the rain dancing wildly in puddles, splattering over squares of greying concrete. Peter dipped his head, pressing one hand close to the window sill.

"You think any of this stuff means anything?" He whispered, staring intently out the window. Helena presses her hand on his shoulder, kneeling behind him. Peter begins to remember back to this morning, when he had been waiting eagerly for Jasper to join him for coffee. He sat there, alone and upset, as he watched this ghost he thought he once loved drift away from him, drifting to the opposite side of the room, the opposite side of his world. He regretted opening himself to his past, knowing that Jasper was his former one true love, knowing that he desperately wanted to move forward, and most of all, Peter regretted ever thinking the missing year would be forgotten. Now, as he watched the man of his dreams dance around him, he hated that he destroyed all of the changes he made just to please Jasper.

"Hey, what's up? Before today, you would've jumped at the chance to investigate the crime scene or the house of the victim. Is it something I said to you in the car?" Helena spoke, resting her arms around Peter's shoulders. She too gazed willingly out the glass window. Ivy vines creeped over the small garden shed, the rusty ochre red door bearing a small oval-shaped lock. Helena ducked her head to see inside the building, only spotting the darkness, and brushed off the building as Peter turned his head towards her. The heavy thumping of the rainfall continued to lull for a moment, before returning to the rising storm.

"It's not you, and I think that it does mean something, it's just." He sighs, tilting his head. "It's just that...life as I know it for me doesn't feel right. Every time I wake up, with Jasper by my side, I feel sick, like I want to vomit." He begins to stand up, stepping further away from the window. The painful state in his eyes materializes into tears, and he tries to cover them with his hands. "I feel sick thinking about this all. Why did this have to happen to me?" He wiped furiously at the tears with his sleeve, searching the deserted house for a tissue box.

Helena pauses, watching him scatter around the room. Something stops her from helping him, but she brushes it off and walks towards him, tearing him away from his clutch on an empty tissue box he discovered under the couch. "You want to know what I do, because you're not alone. I feel sick thinking about working for my sister, but I tell myself to keep moving forward. It won't help if you cry now." Peter smiles, pulling his colleague into a tight hug. "It won't help to hate yourself."

They release from the hug, frozen in front of each other. "I'm okay now. Thank you." Helena smiles, and begins to walk off towards the other end of the compact house. "Now, let's find that killer." Peter pipes in, heaving the large back door open, staring intently towards the garden. The garden shed, to be exact.