Chapter 2 Sorry For Your Loss

I stared at Chris for a long moment, my mind completely blank. I barely registered Sherry's gasp of horror, as I shifted my gaze to the rippling waters of the lake in front of us.

"Lila? Do you understand? Chris asked urgently, "We need to call...I think he...Lila, I'm worried he may have fallen in."

At his halting words, I snapped out of my daze, looking around frantically. "Do you see him?"I lurched to the edge of the dock, and Chris grabbed my arm and pulled me back.

"Sherry," he snapped at his wife, "take her back inside while I call 9-1-1."

Sherry's eyes were wide with shock, and she had her hands clamped over her mouth, as if she was trying to hold in a scream. She nodded, reaching out to take my arm but I pulled back.

"No, I need to stay here," I insisted, my eyes continuing to scan the surface of the lake for any sign of my husband.

"I'm calling from 4372 Elmwood Drive. My friend is missing, and I think he may have fallen into the lake behind his house. He hasn't been seen since early this morning, but his phone is on the floorboard of his boat and the boat is half untied from the dock." I heard Chris say, then he continued giving names and details to the operator. I could feel Sherry trembling as she wrapped her arm around my waist and pulled me close to her, but I was numb.

"Lila, we should go wait up by the house. They are dispatching the police and the water rescue team as well, according to the 9-1-1 operator. She said there's a patrol car just a few minutes away."

I looked at Chris, realizing how pale he was, and noticed his hands were shaking as he put his phone back in his pocket. I still couldn't feel anything. It was as if I was in a void, a black hole where worry and fear and feelings just didn't exist.

The next thirty minutes or so were a blur. The initial officers directed their questions to Chris when it became clear that I couldn't manage much more than a few words. I had been able to tell them that I'd made his lunch, walkedhim down to the dock, and then left at 9:00.

"Wait, I'm sorry, it was 9:02. I was running late," I corrected softly. The older officer wrote everything down while the other one used his cell phone to take a video of the boat and dock, then snapped close up photos of the phone, the cooler, and the rope. Donning latex gloves, he carefully handed the cooler to the older officer, who had been joined by two others by that point. The two new guys weren't wearing uniforms, so I assumed they were detectives.

That assumption proved correct when they walked over to introduce themselves. Det. Horton gestured to the cooler, which they had opened, asking if I could tell if anything was missing out if it. The lunch and all the drinks I had packed were still in there.

He then held up the cell phone, which was now encased in a plastic bag marked 'Evidence'. "Mrs. Montgomery, does this belong to your husband?" He asked.

"Yes," I croaked out. I paused and tried to clear my throat. "He bought that monogrammed phone case a few months ago."

Sherry brought me a bottle of water, and the detectives urged us over to the deck to sit down.

He turned his attention to Chris. "So, are you here in a professional capacity, Mr. Decker?" He asked, trying, and failing to keep the sneer off his face.

Chris was a defense attorney, and the detective obviously recognized him.

"No, my wife and I are friends with the Montgomery's, and were invited here for a cookout this evening," Chris responded calmly.

The detective nodded, then turned to me again. In a much nicer tone of voice than he'd used with Chris, he asked me to run through the events of the morning again.

"I apologize, ma'am, I know you already told this to Officer Fremont, but it is important that I understand the timeline we're working with here."

I nodded, and went through it all again, my voice so quiet that he had to ask me to speak up or repeat myself several times.

He walked back down to the dock once the search crew arrived, asking one of the other officers to sit with us in case we needed anything. We sat in a huddle on the back deck, watching as the crew staged their equipment near the dock. It almost 6:00 pm, and I knew it would be dark around 7:30, so I wondered how long they would be able to search.When I mentioned that to Sherry, she asked the officer if he knew. He said they would bring in large emergency lights if needed.

The detective walked back toward us, with the leader of the search and rescue team. He introduced himself, then came to stand directly in front of me.

"Ma'am, I would like to take a few minutes and explain what we're going to be doing." I nodded, and he continued. "If your husband did indeed end up in the water this morning, it is more than likely that he was incapacitated in some fashion. Otherwise, he would have been able to get out of the water, being so close to the dock and his boat. At this point, I'm afraid our efforts are considered a search and retrieve, rather than a search and rescue."

Chris wrapped one arm around me and the other around Sherry, as the team leader continued speaking.

His voice was steady and calm, and I could hear the compassion in his tone. He quickly went on to explain that they would begin by sending a diver into the water, tethered to a safety line. That diver would complete a search in a sweeping arc formation in an area that was about thirty feet wide.

"In cases like this where we have a good idea where someone entered the water, we start with a radius as wide as the depth of the water. The lakebed drops off sharply about ten feet from the edge, and at the end of your long dock where the boat is tethered, it's roughly thirty feet deep. So, we'll focus our efforts there," he explained.

"We have sonar we can typically use, but in this particular body of water, it isn't very effective. This lake was created here as a fish and waterfowl habitat. So, about twenty feet below the water line, there are dozens of trees in this area alone that were dumped here when the lake was built, to serve as natural habitats for the fish. The sonar detects all of them, so it doesn't help much here."

"Sir," he said, directing his comment to Chris. "I would suggest you and the ladies wait inside the house with Officer Fremont. We will keep you posted about any developments."

"No, I want to sta-"

"Ma'am, please, you really need to go inside for now," he spoke over my objection, his tone compassionate yet leaving no doubt that it wasn't a request, but rather a demand.

Chris led us inside, and we sat at the table in the breakfast nook, which looked out over the lake. We could still see, but we couldn't make out what they were saying as the crew lining the dock and the water's edge occasionally called out to each other.

I barely said a word, sitting stoically at the table while Chris paced, and Sherry held my hand and cried softly. From time to time, she would take a tissue and dab gently at my face, wiping away tears I wasn't even aware of.

After about ten minutes, Chris knelt beside my chair. "Lila, do you want me to call Scott?"

At the mention of David's brother, I closed my eyes for a second and took a deep breath. I nodded and he stepped away, pulling out his phone as he walked into the living room. I could hear the low murmur of his voice for a few minutes before he walked back into the kitchen.

"He's on his way."

"Thank you," I whispered, not ready to think about dealing with my brother-in-law quite yet. He and David were exceptionally close, but Scott and I had never really gelled. We were polite, even friendly at times, but we weren't close. Quite frankly, he could be a real asshole, and brash and cocky seemed to be his typical persona. He had been married and divorced twice, and couldn't understand why David and I had wanted to "tie ourselves down" at such a young age. We had met at a party in college when David was a senior and I was a freshman. We dated for three years, as David established his career as an architect, and I completed my English degree. We married two years after I graduated, and even now, over three years later, it seemed like Scott still didn't approve.

When he arrived about fifteen minutes later, he was pale and obviously shaken. He quickly demanded an update, and Chris filled him in on what we knew so far. Scott turned to me and leaned over to hug me. It was the first time I could ever remember him doing that.

"How are you holding up?" He asked softly, pulling back to stare down into my face.His voice was hoarse, and his expression was full of concern, as he gently wiped a tear from my cheek.

I'm not sure why exactly, but that small glimpse of kindness from such an unexpected source caused the floodgates to open, and I broke. All the grief and hurt of the past seven months came flooding over me, causing fresh waves of pain that stole the breath from my lungs. Scott pulled me up out of the chair, wrapping his arms around me as he led me into the living room.

Chris and Sherry were right behind us, as Scott sat me down on the couch. Chris and Sherry flanked me, huddling around me as if they could create a physical barrier to help ward off any new pain. Scott began to pace around the room as I continued to sob, to the point I was rocking back and forth in an unconscious effort to soothe myself.

After several long minutes, I was overcome with exhaustion. The stress of the day had caught up with me. My crying slowed to shuddering breaths interspersed with choked sobs, as I tried desperately to get myself under control.

A few minutes later, a solemn Det. Horton came in through the back door and into the living room, trailed by Officer Fremont who had waited in the kitchen while I'd had my breakdown.

"Mrs. Montgomery, I'm sorry, but the diver has located a body which matches your husband's description. The team is in the process of retrieval, at which point we hope to be able to make a positive identification."

I stared up at him, forgetting to even breathe for a moment.

"I need you all to remain inside while the team works, please. And again, ma'am, I am very sorry. If you need anything, please let Officer Fremont know. I'll be back in as soon as I can."

We sat there in stunned silence, for several long moments. Suddenly, Scott whirled around, grabbed a picture frame from the mantle, and threw it across the room with a roar filled with anger and pain. Officer Fremont jumped up and grabbed him, urging him to calm down. Scott shrugged out of his grip and stalked to the front door, throwing it open and storming outside.

"It's OK, I'll go talk to him and try to get him to calm down," Chris told Officer Fremont.

The officer looked at Sherry and me, huddled together on the couch. "Can I get either of you ladies anything?"

I shook my head, and Sherry whispered "No". She grabbed my hand and squeezed it as we heard raised voices from the front yard. Clearly, Scott wasn't calming down. Officer Fremont stepped outside to help diffuse the situation, and the three men walked back in a few minutes later. Scott muttered a quiet apology as he flopped down in the recliner, resting his head back and staring up at the ceiling.

The tension in the room was palpable, and I was almost to my breaking point again. I got up and started pacing, unable to sit still one second longer. Det. Horton walked back inside a moment later and came to a stop a few feet away, watching me with a steady gaze.

"We have made a positive ID, based on the photos you gave us. It is your husband. I am truly sorry for your loss, Mrs. Montgomery."