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CHAPTER TWO
A smile eased its way across Luis's face, and very slowly, he said, "What a nice surprise."
Sheridan felt her cheeks burning. For a long moment, she stayed quiet, and then -- "To clean. We have people come in...to clean." Clearing her throat, she continued, "But the frame was broken at the cottage. Someone must have broken in."
She turned and began to walk. "It's this way," she directed him towards the cottage, and he passed her, throwing a cocky smile her way. Obviously, he hadn't forgotten about that morning, but damned if she was going to bring it up.
He inspected the damage and looked up at her with raised eyebrows. "Anything important in there?" he asked, all professional officer now.
Sheridan shook her head. "I wouldn't know. I stayed in the mansion until I was twelve, and then moved to Paris. I think the cottage is where the help stayed."
Luis smiled again, that arrogant smile. "Well, now we know who you are, don't we?"
Sheridan looked confused. "Excuse me?"
"This morning." He was busy looking at the doorframe while he spoke to her, and then turned away and walked inside, calling over his shoulder, "You asked Beth if she knew who you were. Remember?"
Sheridan let out a sigh and replied, "Listen, all I really need you to do is look at the damage and write it down. Don't talk to me like you know me. You don't. In fact, I don't really care to know you. Just do your job and get out. Okay?"
Luis glanced at her once while he checked out the living-room and said, "Gotcha," but nothing more. When they reached the kitchen, and then the bedroom, he finally turned to her and shrugged.
"I don't know -- Ms. Crane, is it?" When Sheridan nodded, he continued, "I can't really see anything out of place here. You would have had to know what personal items you kept, that some were missing, for me to rule it as a robbery. Right now it just looks like some kids were having fun, breaking into Crane property...which is not out of the norm." He smiled again at her, and what irritated her the most was that she knew these were not genuine smiles -- but rather the teasing kind, like he knew he was better than her or something.
And nobody was better than Sheridan Crane.
She bristled. "Fine, just as long as you have it on record. I'd like you to leave now."
"Why so hostile?" he teased. And then, "You know..." He said it slowly, walking away from the bedroom and taking his time reaching the front door. "Last time any police were at the mansion was...oh, about twelve years ago. You remember that, I'm sure?"
Sheridan stopped walking and stared at him, confused. "No," she answered finally; and she couldn't help it, but she was curious, so she asked, "What do you mean?"
Luis faced her, looking genuinely surprised. "You were living here then, weren't you?"
She nodded. "Yes, but I don't remember any police coming to the mansion for any special reason."
He stared at her, almost skeptical. "It was all over the news."
For some reason, her heart started pounding, and her voice came quietly. "What was?"
Now Luis looked even more suspicious. For a long, long time he kept silent. Finally, he said, "The girl who jumped from the attic window at the mansion. Don't you remember that?"
*****
She was in the living-room at the mansion, sitting on the expensive beige couch; and Sheridan hugged her knees to her chest, staring at her cell phone, pondering. She wanted to call her father and ask him why he had never told her about the girl who had committed suicide. Luis had said she was fourteen; that she had jumped from the attic window one day when she was playing with Sheridan. Well, that was what the official record stated, he had told her. But Sheridan didn't remember being friends with any little girl who had committed suicide. She didn't remember the police coming, or anything of the sort.
All she remembered was that one day she was a happy little girl with all the love in the world, and the next she was being sent to Paris, discarded and uncared for.
She picked up the phone finally, giving in, and dialed her father's number.
"Alistair Crane speaking."
"Hello, Father," she said smoothly, stretching out on the couch like a cat, in her red silk robe and nightie.
"Sheridan, my dear. How is Harmony?"
Sheridan considered this. "Boring. I'm glad you moved me away from here so young. I would have died long ago, for lack of anything better to do."
Alistair chuckled over the phone. "Sounds like home."
"Father," she said hesitantly, picking at her nails -- a bad habit she was never able to rid herself of. "Someone broke into the cottage.... I found out earlier today when I was walking the grounds."
Alistair sighed. "Unfortunately, that happens a lot. The maids report back to me, but I've never alerted the police. Just some foolish kids with nothing better to do, I'm sure. Did you call the police?"
Sheridan cleared her throat, feeling uneasy. "Well, yes."
"I see."
"What else was I supposed to do? We're Cranes, Father. We have to put a stop to this nonsense. Anyway," she continued, dismissing that issue, "the officer told me something interesting." She paused for only a moment before blurting the words out: "Father, why didn't you tell me a girl committed suicide here?"
Her father didn't answer for so long that Sheridan feared that he had hung up; but finally, he said, "I didn't think you'd want to know, Sheridan."
She was so confused that she couldn't think of anything to say, so she simply replied, "Well, he told me I was friends with her. Was I?"
"Yes, you were," Alistair sighed. "That's why you started having nightmares, Sheridan. That's why I didn't think it was a good idea for you to come back to Harmony. It will only make them worse. But don't let this bother you."
Sheridan was quiet for a while. "It does bother me," she finally said. "I mean, she was a friend of mine, and I can't even remember her." And then she told him she had to go and hung up, because she couldn't think of anything else to say to him.
All she knew was that she had to figure out who this girl was, and why she couldn't remember her.
*****
That night, Sheridan dreamed of the little girl again -- but it was interrupted every now and then with the officer, Luis's face, smiling that arrogant smile and asking her, "Don't you remember, Sheridan? Don't you remember?"
She woke in a cold sweat, recalling that the little girl had turned to her with that sad smile again -- but this time, she had turned again and waited for Sheridan to follow her to the attic window. But the window was not of a little girl holding a rose; it wasn't even stained glass. It was just a window. Then the dream had stopped abruptly.
But now Sheridan was sure that this was her friend she was dreaming of, and there was even something vaguely familiar about her -- even though Sheridan still couldn't make out her features.
She glanced at the clock on her nightstand and sighed. It was 6:00 AM, and she knew she wasn't going to be able to get back to sleep, so she hopped in the shower and emerged thirty minutes later feeling refreshed and ready for a cup of coffee.
As it turned out, the only coffee house in town was the Book Caf�, and once again she found herself face-to-face with Beth.
Making no effort to apologize for the day before, Sheridan ordered a medium French Vanilla milk-only, and, as an afterthought, added, "And that blueberry muffin, too."
Beth gave her an icy glare, but went to work making the coffee. She practically slammed it onto the counter in front of Sheridan, splashing some of the contents over the edge, and Sheridan gave her an impatient look.
"Wipe the cup, please," she demanded.
Beth gave her a disbelieving look. "Excuse me?"
"You spilled some over the side. It's only right that you wipe it off. I didn't come here to get coffee all over my hands. Or aren't you professional? -- because it seems that this is the only coffee house in Harmony and as I recall it...the Cranes own this shop? And I happen to be a Crane." She smiled a little too sweetly, and gave Beth a pointed look; then folded her arms, and waited while the disgruntled waitress grabbed a napkin and wiped the side of the cup.
"There," Beth shot out. "Happy?"
"You could do with a more pleasant attitude, but yes. My muffin?"
Beth tossed the muffin into a to-go bag and shoved it at Sheridan. "Have a great day," she said sarcastically, but Sheridan only smiled at her and sat down at one of the tables, opening that morning's newspaper and scanning the page while sipping her coffee.
And ten minutes later, Luis walked in.
Ordinarily, Sheridan would have simply ignored him and left the Book Caf�, but today she had actually been hoping she would run into him. He did, after all, know more about the girl who committed suicide than she did; and she didn't know anyone else in town, and wasn't all that sure that she would make a great impression on anybody else, anyway. These people weren't her type of people -- none of them were rich, with the exception of the Hotchkisses, who she didn't even know; and none of them understood what it meant to be the best and know that you were the best.
The only person who could put up with her so far happened to be Luis. So, he was the only one she was interested in talking to.
She allowed him time to order his coffee and chat for a while with Beth, but then she got impatient. He had to be on break, because he was in uniform, which meant that he could leave at any point, and damned if she was going to miss this opportunity to speak with him. So she got up and approached the counter, and for the third time in two days, she interrupted Beth and Luis.
"I'd like to speak to you," she said importantly. "Now."
Luis raised his eyebrows at her and scanned her appearance. She wasn't all that worried about this, because she knew she looked good in her white Christian Dior pantsuit and matching handbag, but she did get a little huffy when he didn't answer her right away.
"Can't you tell it's important?" she asked impatiently.
"I was speaking to Beth. You remember Beth," he replied with a smile, gesturing to the waitress.
Sheridan glanced at her, but ignored that comment and said, "It's about that girl you told me about yesterday."
"You talked to her yesterday?!" Beth interrupted, incredulous.
"It was a work thing," Luis reassured her, and then said to Sheridan, "Well, I'd love to help you, but I simply can't drag myself away for that long. Maybe another time." Then he turned his back on her and addressed Beth, who shot Sheridan a silky smile.
Sheridan had never felt so frustrated with one person in all her life. She stood there for a moment, not sure what to do. She always got what she wanted, always, and she wasn't going to let this low-class policeman turn that around. So she tapped him on the shoulder and said again, "I need to talk to you."
He sighed and faced her. "I'm busy. Can't you see?"
"You're only talking to her," Sheridan spat out, disgusted. "You can talk to her any other time, but I really need your help."
Luis stared at her for a long time. Finally he said, "Okay, I'll talk to you. On one condition."
Sheridan folded her arms and lifted an eyebrow, waiting.
"Beth tells me that this morning you were a little rude to her." He smiled that arrogant smile that had haunted her dreams all night. "You apologize to her, and promise to be nice from now on, and I'll give you a few minutes of my time."
Sheridan looked back and forth between Beth and Luis. "I don't do bargains," she finally said, getting a little angry.
Luis shrugged and turned his back on her, and Sheridan fumed. He was going to compromise her pride, and that was one thing she just couldn't deal with. But if she was going to get any answers, she needed to at least pretend to let go of her pride for one second. So she said quietly, "Fine," and addressed Beth -- "I'm sorry. I won't be rude to you again."
And then she looked at Luis again and said, "But you have to tell her that the same goes!"
Luis smirked and told Beth, "You be nice now," and Beth simply stared innocently, giving a little shrug.
Sheridan shook her head, furious with herself, but even more furious with Luis; and she stormed away to a little table in the far corner of the Book Caf�, waiting for him to join her. When he finally did, she said, "This isn't about us being friendly towards each other in any way. In fact, after today, I'd prefer not to see your face ever again." She sipped the coffee she'd ordered earlier, which was getting a little cold, and looked up at him.
He still had that arrogant look on his face, and she was sure it was just permanently attached there.
"I just want to know," she continued when he didn't reply, "who that little girl was, and where I can get more information on her."
Luis smiled slowly at her, folded his arms, and leaned back in his chair.
"All right," he said quietly. "I'll tell you."
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