If only I knew...

Emma paused for a moment, wiped the tears from her journal page and continued writing, "I had such plans for us, God, why did you take her so soon?" The paper puckered where physical evidence of her grief had landed. "Mom deserved to know some happiness in her life. I wanted to witness her smile; I wanted there to be a reason for her to smile again." She paused from writing and reached down to plant a quick pat on the heads of her guardians.

The two faithful Rottweilers rested at her feet. Sampson and Goliath were constant companions and her own personal entourage since the attack on her life last year. She had always loved dogs, but never owned one. Her father wouldn't allow animals in the house when she was growing up. Sampson and Goliath were a gift from her brother. He couldn't be with her 24/7, but they could.

Emma sat up, reached for a tissue, wiped her brown eyes, and dabbed at her mascara in an attempt to repair the damage her tears had caused. In all her twenty-eight years, she could not remember ever feeling as desperate and sad as she did this day. Putting her feelings on paper was the only way she knew to deal with the grief. For her, journaling was better than speaking to her therapist.

"What can I do to help you through this?" asked Jim, Emma's twin brother. She looked up as he stretched out in the chair across the table from her. Emma hadn't heard him enter the room but she felt his presence. They had the 'twin' thing going on and instinctively knew when they were needed by the other.

"Filling up another book, are you?" he asked. "I am glad you have that outlet, somewhere you can vent and process, but don't forget about me. I am right here; we can help each other too."

Emma looked up and said, "While we were at the cemetery this morning, and the rain covered coffin was lowered into the ground, I thought I couldn't be any unhappier than at that moment. I was wrong. Sitting around this kitchen table, surrounded by memories of times we shared with mom, eating dinner together, laughing and crying, and planning for the future, is more than I can bear."

Jim said, "I understand how you feel. Mom deserved so much more. She deserved a husband who was faithful, a man who loved her as much as she loved him. She was never the same after the divorce."

"I know. I thought it would be better to live alone than to live with him." She said, remembering all the times their father had abused his family. For years Emma referred to her father as him, or that man. She never called him dad. He didn't deserve that title.

"Do the police have any idea who did this? Are there any clues at all? I still can't believe I couldn't protect her, couldn't keep her safe," Emma said. "Every day I protect celebrities and executives, for a living. But my own mother died because I couldn't be there for her, I could not guard her that night."

"Just because you are a cop, doesn't mean you can save everyone," Jim interjected. "You have to cut yourself some slack here, girl."

"I am not a cop, I am a female executive protection agent; bodyguard to you." she reminded him with a slight grin.

It was nice to see even a hint of a smile in place of the forlorn look she had been wearing for days. "I know sis, you remind me all the time."

"I spoke with the detective heading up the investigation and he said they have some clues and they are diligently working the case," Jim said. He didn't tell her everything he knew. He didn't tell his twin the investigation had turned up some evidence the hit and run was deliberate. Jim neglected to share with her his suspicions as well.

"Hit and run, can you believe it? How could anyone do such a thing? Why wouldn't they stop and help once they realized what had happened?" Emma asked.

Closing her journal, she pulled her 5'10" frame up and out of the chair and began pacing the kitchen floor. Her strong personality and athletic stature intimidated some, but not Jim. He towered over her by five inches; he could fill a room by simply standing up.

She could sense Jim was keeping something from her. "Spit it out brother, what is it you know and aren't saying? Don't think you can protect me by keeping information from me."

"Emma, sometimes I think being so close to you isn't a good thing. Your ability to read me is unsettling at times."

"Jim, I can't read your mind; it is your body language. I see when you tense up, when you back away from me a bit so as not to reveal something. That is what I read."

"Okay, I know, it is just creepy sometimes."

"Now, what are you not telling me?" she persisted.

Jim hesitated for a moment, and then decided his sister deserved the truth. She would need to be on her toes and very, very watchful. "Remember the attack on your life? Remember the police dismissing it as just an accident?"

"Yes, they said it was a case of my being in the wrong place at the wrong time. You know I never bought that."

"I know, Detective Granger didn't buy it either. He has kept the case open and he updates me frequently on any progress in the investigation. Bill Granger told me this afternoon after the funeral that he suspects mom's death and the attempt on your life may be linked."

Emma looked at Jim with a stunned expression; tears formed and once again threatened to spill over. "No," she whispered. "It can't be. If only I knew..." Her words were halted mid-sentence as Sampson and Goliath both stirred and began to growl a low rumble. Their warning sounds grew in intensity as they rose to their feet and headed to the back door, clamoring to be let loose.

Jim grabbed his sister and pulled her away from the window. He reached for the doorknob and released the beasts into the backyard. "Kill!" he commanded.