Authors: Laura Marie Henion
She could see her other cousin, Tom, along with his good friends he'd grown up with. Victoria smiled when she saw her Uncle Patrick and Cousin Connor marching alongside the other officers in the parade.
Victoria sighed. She thought about her father and the past years watching the parade. It was ... different without him.
Every year, her father and brother, Peter, would march side by side with huge smiles on their faces. Her father would wave to his wife, Sherry, and to Victoria, as well.
"Kyle Mathew's, don't you dare put the cotton candy in your sister's hair.” Sally grabbed their cousin by the arm and walked him toward his parents.
Victoria laughed at the sight. The family continued to grow.
With thoughts of children, marriage, and family, came the rush of loss and worry.
Victoria thought about her brother, James. She missed him terribly and prayed he was safe.
Early last night, there had been some breaking news on television about an explosion at one of the military bases.
She remained glued to the television until confirmed reports came in there were no casualties.
James, a lieutenant in the army and stationed in Faluhja was due back home in six months, if all went well. They had just received a letter from him three days ago. He sounded energized and motivated to be there and get his job done. James had been able to come home for his father's funeral on a three-day pass, which was wonderful for the whole family.
He, being the oldest child, had difficulty leaving his family, feeling he was responsible to support them.
"Hey, Mardullo, interview any bad guys lately?” her cousin, Drake, asked.
She knew her cousin had been referring to the interview she had recently done with an inmate somehow connected to multiple murders but behind bars for a different crime.
Her interrogation skills and investigative techniques got the guy to confess to other unsolved murders.
"You liked that, huh? It went pretty well, but I wish I had more time, so that I could have really given it to him."
"Weren't you nervous, sitting in that room alone with a man capable of such violence?"
"I focused on the objective. I had a job to do and I did it."
"Well, it was great."
"Thank you."
Drake smiled then heard someone call his name. He made his way over to Peter.
She grinned at her brother. He returned the smile, and they both looked toward Aunt Jane.
It amazed her how close she was to her brothers and mom. They appeared as if they could read her mind.
Victoria recalled the way the three of them, Peter, James, and she, sat on the back porch swing together the night of their dad's funeral. Their mom lay asleep in her room, physically and emotionally exhausted. They, however, held one another, Victoria in the middle. They planned a strategic way of handling things—which of them would take care of the finances, the bills, Mom, and the house. The list went on. James would try to do his part but from a distance. He had his military career, his obligation to the country, and to make his personal effort to ensure that there would never be another September 11.
They would all pull together. It was the family way. They always worked together, one unit, one team, and never left to feel all alone. She laughed when she thought about it. Her father would give them plenty of warning if a meeting were to occur. He'd say, “Mardullo family meeting, seven tonight, back porch.” The three of them would laugh if the meeting was for something good, but cringe if it were for something bad.
Like the time James and Peter had a fight with some other guys and the police were called. No one pressed charges or anything. The other guys started it, but Dad swore he and Mom were not raising hoodlums or troublemakers. Victoria was in just as much trouble because she tried to use her cover-up makeup to hide her brothers’ bruised cheeks. Those were the days. Happy times, funny memories, a family bond so strong, they all thought nothing could penetrate it or destroy it.
Now here she was, knowing she should at least confide in her brother about her plans and her progress into her father's murder, but she knew what the result would be.
"You shouldn't get involved. You're not a detective, a trained professional. Leave it to the police."
She just couldn't do it. Victoria was a professional, good at her particular job, writing major articles for the magazine, interviewing homicide detectives, police officers, prosecuting and defense attorneys. She was damn good at it. She'd use whatever skills, connections, and everything else she had. There wasn't anyone who could stop her.
Victoria looked toward her brother, Peter, determined to keep her cool, remain silent, but confide in him when the time was right. Avoiding his glances and her own guilty feelings, she knew that remaining silent about the investigation was her best option.
Since Dad died, all the males in the family were overprotective. Knowing she showed no fear, no weakness despite the multiple losses in her life, she wasn't certain she could fool her brothers and mom. Their bond was too strong and the next few weeks that bond would be somewhat tested. The moment the family was to discover she had accessed her father's case file; all hell would break loose, starting with Peter and Uncle Pat.
For too long, she leaned on them, allowed them to have an invisible control because of that protectiveness. Lately, she felt the need to let go of the binds that held her back, kept her undercover and confined. One of those binds was accepting that Steven didn't love her and wasn't coming back.
Taking a deep breath, feeling the stabbing pain to her heart from only thinking his name, she would force herself to move on.
Looking around the party, hoping no one had noticed her moment of weakness, she spotted Peter. Their gazes locked, his eyebrows creased as he lipped the words, “Are you okay?"
Smiling, she lipped a, “Fine,” as he continued his conversation with one of his friends.
Peter was tall and handsome with light brown hair and brown eyes, just like their father. He received more of the Italian genes in the family than the Irish genes. James looked more Irish than Italian with his reddish brown hair, green eyes, and trim build. Victoria was a combination of both Italian and Irish.
Dad's side had more Italian and Mom's side had a lot more Irish blood. That was obvious by the looks of Uncle Patrick who could have stepped right off the boat, directly from Ireland. Looking at Uncle Patrick, she imagined him speaking in his Irish brogue later while he drank beer and talked about the old days with friends.
Taking in the sounds and sights around her, she locked gazes with Peter who was standing by the old maple tree. He had been watching the parade with Uncle Jack, Aunt Sarah, and Aunt Jane.
He headed toward her.
She cringed just thinking he may be able to read her mind after all. If that were the case, then he would surely bust her.
Peter, a SWAT team, training officer for the local police department had obviously decided not to march this year. Victoria was certain he just couldn't handle the emotions or the memories yet.
"Hey, Tory. You okay?” Peter gave her a kiss on her cheek.
Smiling, she glanced up into his eyes. She could sense his uneasiness.
"Couldn't miss it, you know, the Malley family tradition and all."
"Yeah, family tradition.” Peter glanced back toward the road.
Victoria couldn't help but become teary-eyed herself as the familiar sound of the local police department bagpipe band led the way for the officers marching. It was a familiar sound and sight that she always associated with seeing her father as he marched along the parade route. The pipes not only had a distinct sound, but also, stirred an emotion inside her with every chord and every song. She always loved the feeling it caused deep in her belly and her heart. It made her foot tap and her hips sway to each bang on the large drum along with its rhythm.
It was more then her Irish heritage or growing up in a family of law enforcement officers, firefighters, and soldiers. The instruments held everything together, whether in celebration like today, or in great sorrow and loss as they had a year ago.
Victoria's heart ached.
Her mother, seeming to sense her daughter's sorrow, appeared behind her, and embraced Victoria's shoulders. “I miss him, too, baby. I'm sure he's watching us right now and has that huge smile on his face."
"I'm sure he is, too, Mom."
Victoria swallowed hard, submerging the tears and emotion, the scars still raw and deep. She wondered if she would ever recover. Would there eventually be a normalcy to their lives again? Glancing at her mom and her discomfort to appear happy and at ease, never mind functional, Victoria would continue to focus on her mom's loss more than her own. Right now, Sherry needed Victoria's strength.
They continued to watch the parade, waving at people they knew, and inviting them to join the rest of the family for the big celebration.
An hour later, the party got crowded. Men in various uniforms gathered in Uncle Patrick's front and backyard, drinking beer, sipping soda, and talking shop. The Malley family had relatives all over the county, and it was an on-going joke that they seemed related to everyone.
Sherry watched her daughter, Victoria, as she spoke with Tom, Connor, and a few of their friends. She could read her daughter's body language—the way she tensed up when a man got too close or flirted with her.
Sherry couldn't help being concerned about the affect all this loss may be having on Victoria's social life. She hadn't dated anyone in more than a year, was absorbed in the magazine she wrote for, and kept everything inside. She had been through so much in the past fifteen months.
Sherry continued to watch Victoria, observed the way she conducted herself, so classy and professional. She was gorgeous, young, and vibrant. The circumstances of the past had taken a toll on that vibrancy. Victoria put on an act around her family and it didn't fool Sherry one bit.
"Hey, what's the long face for, sis? This is supposed to be a party."
Patrick put his arms around Sherry's shoulder then looked down the line of her sight.
"My favorite niece is a knockout. Don't worry, sis. Connor, Brian, Andy, and Peter will keep an eye on her. We all want to see her happy. Jane said Victoria was late again. I don't know why that bothers her. Tory even made a cake?"
"I don't know why, either. I guess she feels a little unappreciated, but I can't force Victoria to show up for every family gathering. She has distanced herself a bit, has absorbed herself in that magazine she works for, and is constantly on the go. I guess keeping busy is what keeps Steven off her mind and her father in her heart. I can't help but worry, Pat."
"I know that, Sherry. I worry about her too, but she seems fine. We're all trying to make it through this one day at a time. I just can't believe he'll be gone a year next week.” He took a sip of beer from the blue cup.
"Neither can I, are you sure the police department wants to do the small memorial service for Danny? I don't know if I can handle it, never mind Victoria."
"Sure they do and they've been hoping by keeping Danny's case in the public eye that just maybe, more clues will surface and we'll get closer to finding his killer. Don't worry about it. We'll all be there together."
"Maybe not Victoria. She's already laying the groundwork for some important business trip to Chicago. This has been so hard for her, Pat. She loved her father so much, and she was so in love with Steven. Every time I think about the circumstances of his disappearance, my heart aches. Steven told her to wait for him when called to serve in the war. They were so in love.” Sherry remained puzzled by Steven's actions. It had been easy to envision Victoria and Steven getting married one day, even Danny had approved.
Steven had worked on the SWAT team alongside Victoria's brother, Peter, and cousin, Brian. However, as Steven always said, he was a Marine first and foremost. Everyone was surprised at the way he disappeared and never contacted Victoria.
"Maybe there's more to what happened? He disappeared for the year then volunteered to stay on. Maybe there was an important mission."
"Don't look at me like that, Sherry. I know he broke her heart and it was the last thing she needed. Her heart was broken; she was struggling with her work, and filled with constant worry, then discovers Steven, basically, forgot about her. Wrote her off ... who knows?"
"Then her father is murdered. Her silence after everything was deafening, Pat. You remember how worried we all were even though she took care of all the details for Danny's service and even spoke at the funeral. She's so much stronger than I am. I don't know where that strength and composure comes from."
"Danny! That's who, and you. Don't sell yourself short, sis. You've been a trooper. You know she's been earning quite a reputation around the law enforcement circuit? That last article she did in
Search and Seizure
was awesome, never mind the live interview she did with that scumbag murderer. She's quite the interrogator."
"Who's quite the interrogator?” Victoria interrupted her mom and uncle with a hug and a kiss.
She stood on her toes as he pulled her toward him, wrapping one strong, solid arm around her waist, easily lifting her off the ground. It made her giggle.
"Hey, beautiful, what happened, the conversation over there get boring?” Patrick set her down gently.
"Kind of. They started talking about the SWAT team and a new commander joining the team this week. Supposedly to take it over, re-organize, and whip it into shape. Peter, Brian, and the guys aren't looking forward to it. They have no idea who it is. No one does,” Victoria said. Connor walked by, passing her a bottle of water as he said hello.
"Last week, Peter heard it could be someone hired from within. Yesterday, he heard the person is from another state,” Sherry added.
Her uncle purposely changed the subject, and Sherry picked up on it immediately but didn't say a word. She knew the police department had its rules, and family or not, if they were sworn to secrecy, none of them would be the one to spill the beans. Sherry figured Pat was aware of the new commander's identity.