Till Life Do Us Part

Chapter 9

Danica slammed her car door shut and squinted her eyes to look up at the house that loomed over her. She heard the sound of Tristan's own car door slamming shut in front of her. Luckily for him, he didn't have to squint as his opaque black sunglasses shielded his eyes safely from the sun. Danica suddenly wished she had brought hers. He joined her where she still stood and they both gazed up at the house in silence.

"She lived here alone?".

"As far as I know". He replied shortly, still staring at the house. She glanced up at him in confusion. 

"You aren't so sure, are you?".

Sighing, he drove his hands into the pockets of his suit pants and turned to look at her too. "I didn't know much about her personal life. She definitely didn't start dating early but when she did.......she kept it personal and I never......bothered to push it".

Nodding, Danica started forward and waved him over. "Come on, let's get started".

She heard the slight hesitation in his steps as he slowly followed her. She glanced back at him as she continued her trek up the long driveway. 

"You don't come here often since her death.......do you?" Her voice came out way softer than she would have liked. The guilty look in his eyes answered her question. He looked away before answering. 

"I only came once.......the day I was acquitted. I came to clear up the place but I couldn't bring myself to do it. So I only locked up and left". His voice gave away no sign of the sorrow she knew he must be feeling.

They finally got to the porch and she stepped aside to let him unlock the door. She was first hit with the smell of lavender as the door was pushed open. Tristan went in first, and Danica stopped at the door to say a quick prayer to Linda's soul before following him in. They were in a hallway, wide with a lot of photo frames on the right wall and a long coat rack on the left, 3 coats already hanging from it. Tristan didn't even glance around as he made his way directly into the adjoining room which was apparently the sitting room. Dust coated every possible surface in the room. Underneath the overpowering smell of lavender was the unmistakable smell of dust. As far as her eyes could make out in the sparse light that filtered in through the windows, she saw 4 long cushions including a love seat arranged in a neat order in front of the wide fireplace and many more photo frames adorning every possible part of the walls. Even though she didn't show it, the cold stillness of the room got to Danica and she couldn't get rid of the disturbing imagination that Linda Roden would somehow pop out of somewhere.

The room suddenly lit up in a bright white light as Tristan pulled the light switch and for a moment, she was dumbfounded. When Tristan had said his sister loved monochrome and art, he definitely hadn't exaggerated. The walls, cushions, curtains and rugs were all white and still managed to look somehow pristine despite the thick coats of dust. The fireplace and throw pillows were black and the floor was also made up of the shiniest, black tiles she had ever seen. The frames on the walls contained art pieces that seemed to be the only colors in the room and even they were consisted of muted colors in all shades of grey, blue and brown. Somehow, Danica could just imagine Linda fitting perfectly into these surroundings. 

"This is rather.....impressive". She said.

Tristan stared forward, his face tight and devoid of an expression. 

"Yeah......I guess so". He turned to her and she saw that his eyes were even harder than she had expected. "Shall we get started, Detective?".

Starting forward, she marched over to the winding staircase that stood at the back of the room and gazed up at it.

"She only used the first floor". Tristan said shortly. She glanced at him curiously.

"Why?" 

He shrugged. "The house is a new one. She only purchased it a few months before she died........when she finally decided to move out of the family house".

"A family house? That's new. Who lives there?".

"The family used to, my dad and mum before they died, Linda and I, my uncle Edmund and his family". She c****d an eyebrow in surprise but he continued. "But I moved out when I was 21 and Linda did 5 months before she died. So it's just my uncle Edmund now".

"And his family". She added and he nodded in agreement. "Who are the family?".

"His wife and three kids. There's Zach, Greg and Lizzy". 

"How old are they?" She asked as she walked over to the fireplace slowly, eyes taking in every detail.

"Zach is 31, Greg is probably 25 and Lizzy is probably 21. Zach is actually the only stable one in the house right now. He works as my Uncle's own PA. Greg is off to wherever he is most of the time and Lizzy stays with her boyfriend. But in the end, the house is the only home they all know".

Danica nodded as she slowly made her way around the room. 

"What exactly are you looking for, Detective?".

Cocking an eyebrow lightly, she turned to look at him for a few seconds before answering. 

"Anything. Anything that can be used to reopen the case". 

She stared him down before turning back to the picture frame she had been examining. 

"How many rooms are in the house?".

"I don't know about the whole house but there are 2 rooms on this floor".

"Let's check them out" She said, not bothering to wait for him as  she headed towards the first door on her right.

She was met with inky darkness as she opened the door, followed by the chalky scent of dust. Her chest constricted at the sight of the dark room and she quickly stepped back, roughly knocking into Tristan's rock hard midriff in the process. She felt it when he caught her upper arms to steady her but all she could see was the blackness of the room. Her chest felt tight and she was pretty sure she must have made a sound when Tristan spun her  around fast and looked her over. 

"Is everything okay?".

She instinctively nodded even as she was left faint by the instant flood of relief that washed over her at finally looking away. She blinked the darkness away from her vision and looked up to find him still staring down at in confusion and warm concern. His eyes looked so worried and for a moment, she dissolved into Melaniá and she was once again in her Iago's arms. Realizing how stupid she must seem, she gently but firmly pushed away from him and glanced away, her previously ashen face now slightly warm with embarrassment.

"Are you okay, Detective?".

She coughed lightly and nodded. "Yes....of course I am. I'm fine".

He looked at her unconvincingly before pushing past her and going ahead into the room to turn the lights on. She sighed in relief even as he glanced around the room to see what might have scared her. She used the little moment of privacy to compose herself, taking deep breaths to steady her heart beat and shaking her head to clear off the faintness. When Tristan turned to her again even more confused than ever, she hoped she looked okay as she stared back blankly. 

"Are you really fine?".

She was thankful for the space between his body and the door as she pushed past him, nodding briskly while avoiding his eyes. "I said I'm fine".

She didn't look back to discern his expression as she busied herself with observing the room. Beneath the thick layer of dust, she could see that it had been a painting room. Opened cans of paint littered the floor and at least 4 aisles with their respective canvases stood, scattered around the room. Splashes of dried paint adorned the tarped floor and sparse stools sprinkled around the room. Looking deeper, she noticed that the light blue wallpapers on the walls equally sported the splashes. Driving her hands into the pockets of her coat, she shuffled forward but was met with a thin cloud of dust as she rumpled the tarp. She coughed into her arm at the same time that she heard Tristan's low curse as the dust reached him too. She ignored the persistent tickle of dust on her nostrils but Tristan wasn't trying so hard as he let out a muffled sneeze that had her jumping. She turned to eye him and he glared back at her indignantly. 

"What were you thinking disturbing the dust?"

"If we are going to find an evidence of some sort, we are still going to have to disturb it anyways". She replied, emotionless.

He humphed loudly, eliciting another bout of cough and he finally reached up to cover his nose, waving her on in the process. A small smug smile crept to her lips and she quickly turned away before he could see it. Tightening the crook of her arm around her nose, she marched forward into the dust, tarpaulin rumpling loudly around her feet. She approached the nearest canvas carrying an unfinished piece and studied it. The painting was monochrome and it depicted the top half of a girl's face, black drops of tears slipping from her eyes, her long black halo of hair blowing wildly behind her. Even incomplete, the painting was almost beautiful in a weird, melancholic way. 

"Your sister painted?" She asked as she reached behind the canvas, fumbling her fingers around the seams.

"She did". His voice didn't come from behind her as she expected and she turned around to see him in front of the painting farthest away from the one she was standing before, fumbling around like she had been doing. She noticed the other paintings, each depicting the black and white visions Linda Roden had had of life and each beautiful in it's own unique, sad way. 

In silence they went through the whole room, canvases, window panes, stools, tarp and every other place that might hold something. By the time they were done, they were both covered in a fair amount of dust and their boots took the brunt of it all. 

"Well that was one dusty episode". Tristan said.

She didn't reply him as they made their way out of the room, him right at her heels.

"Wouldn't the second floor be a good place to look for stuff like this?". He asked as they reached the sitting room, still dusting off.

She eyed the winding staircase that led up and turned to him. "Are there lights up there?". 

"Last time I heard, the floor was dark, empty and dusty. Even while Linda lived here". She suppressed the shudder that threatened to rack her body at the "dark" word. "But doesn't that make it an even better place to find.....something?". He continued.

Turning away from him, she clapped eyes on another door that stood at the other side of the room. "Nope it doesn't". She said and marched towards the door. Not willing to risk the darkness that definitely laid beyond, she stepped aside and turned to him expectantly, keeping her face blank. He looked at her in confusion for a little while before getting the message. Sighing, he approached the door and pushed it open, pulling the light switch simultaneously. Her heart nearly skipped with joy as the room lit up in a usual white fashion. Stepping around his big body, she marched forward into the room but was halted in her tracks. On the far side of the bed laid a few scattered luggage, a small box and two bags. The box was wide open and revealed a couple of clothes roughly thrown in while the two bags overflowed with belongings. It looked......it looked like someone had been packing urgently. Someone.......Linda.

"Was your sister planning a trip that you knew of?". When she didn't receive an immediate answer, she glanced at him behind her and met his face confused, eyebrows knit together and mouth set in a tight line. She already knew her answer.

"No, she wasn't".