As far as I knew, there was no family or loved ones searching for Melanie. Perhaps that’s why the file had been abandoned and left unsolved. There was no one to demand answers, no one to keep fighting for justice on Melanie’s behalf. No one except for me.
“Can I ask you a question?”
Dean nodded.
“Whatever happened to the dissertation Melanie was working on?” I asked. “The detectives said it was never found. I’m curious what she discovered about all those missing planes.”
Dean leaned back on the bench and gazed out the window. “She never really solved the Bermuda Triangle mystery, but she said she made some interesting discoveries about particle physics. In the end, I couldn’t bring myself to read it, but I couldn’t destroy it either. Not after what happened to her. So after the police questioned me, I ripped out the page where she mentioned my name, took the dissertation to the library, and stuck it on a shelf. I figured someone would stumble across it eventually and catalog it or return it to Columbia.”
I frowned. “I don’t think anyone ever did because I read everything I could get my hands on about the Bermuda Triangle. And surely the detectives would have found it when they were investigating. Which library?”
“New York Public. Main Branch.”
“What section?”
“I can’t remember. I was panicked.”
It had been years since I had searched for information about the Bermuda Triangle. I’d wanted to put it behind me, but I decided I would look into it when I got home.
“Let’s go outside,” I said. “I need to feel the breeze.”
Dean followed willingly but silently, and I realized he was not the same man I had fallen in love with. That man had become a prisoner, locked up with his fear and shame. It had left him broken.
When we emerged into the sunlight, I looked around at other sailboats that were tied to their moorings and at the people in shorts and tank tops on the boardwalk. I moved to the shiny steering wheel and ran my fingers lightly across the top of it. “She’s a beautiful boat,” I said.
Dean sat down on a bench and rested his elbows on his knees. “I only got her last year. She’s bigger than my last boat. It made a difference with the bookings. We’re busier.”
I raised a hand to shade my eyes from the sun, which had moved lower in the sky.
“Listen,” I finally said. “The reason I came all this way was because of Rose. If not for her, I probably would have spent the rest of my days never knowing what happened to you, but she found out about a sister she didn’t know she had, and she wanted to meet her. So now, here we are, and I finally have the truth.”
“Yes,” he said.
He was staring down at his shoes, and I hated this. I hated it with every breath in my body.
“Dean . . .” I waited for him to look up at me, and then I spoke carefully. “You must realize that you have to turn yourself in.”
He said nothing. He merely sat back and gazed out at the water.
“Dean?”
He wouldn’t look at me. Then he stood up and walked to the rail, kept his back to me. Eventually, I approached and laid my hand on his shoulder.
“If only I had moved her to another therapist right away,” he said. “If only I hadn’t kissed her that day. She’d still be alive. And you and I could have spent the rest of our lives together.”
Perhaps, I thought.
Or perhaps not.
The boat bobbed lightly on the gentle swells, and I wondered soberly if either of us would ever truly be at peace. Then Dean stepped forward and wrapped his arms around me. I was shocked and unsettled at first. I didn’t want him to touch me in that intimate way. But then I understood that he was still living in a nightmare, and he needed comfort, release, or perhaps absolution. I tried to relax, and I rubbed my hand up and down his back, and we held each other for a moment, until the boat heaved on the sudden wake from another craft coming in from the reef.
When Dean stepped back, he inhaled deeply, as if he were drawing courage from the sea air. He faced the water again. “I’ll do it,” he said. “I’ll go to the police and tell them what happened.”
I was surprised by how easily he agreed to it. It made me realize how broken he was. There was no fight left in him, or perhaps he felt there was nothing worth fighting for. This supposed freedom on the Great Barrier Reef had never been real.
“Can I at least meet Rose before I do that?” he asked. “I’d like to tell her how sorry I am. For everything.”
I considered it for a moment. Part of me wanted to say no, to shield Rose from the heartbreak and confusion of knowing that her biological father had committed a crime and had run from justice. But it wasn’t my place to control her life in that way or steer her away from pain. I had to trust that she was strong enough to handle it.
I said yes because I knew that’s what Rose would want as well.
“I’ll text her and tell her to come right now.” I dug into my bag for my cell phone and sent her a quick message. She replied immediately to let me know that she was on her way.
Dean and I stood a little longer, watching a flock of seabirds surround a fishing boat.
“I told her we’d meet her on the boardwalk,” I said, after a time. “Maybe we should go now?”
Dean agreed, and together, we disembarked.
As we walked the length of the dock in solemn silence, my heart throbbed. I couldn’t help but wonder what our lives might have been like if he had never become involved with Melanie Brown. I imagined it all for a shimmering moment, the vision flashing through my mind like a meteor shooting across the sky. Then I reined in my imagination because there was no point dreaming about what might have been. If things had been different, my life would not be the same today, and I could never want that. Not now, because I loved my life. I loved my husband and my children and the happy home that we shared.
Dean and I reached the boardwalk and took a seat on the bench to wait. Finally, I spotted Rose walking toward us. She was dressed in a long floral skirt and a slim-fitting turquoise T-shirt, and her hair was pulled up in a messy bun. “Here she comes,” I said.
Dean stood and stared. “She’s so grown up. I can’t believe it. And she looks so much like you.”
My eyes were on Rose the entire time. She walked with purpose, and I was proud of her for being brave and open to whatever might transpire.
As she drew near, she slowed her pace and removed her sunglasses. The three of us came together, and a gentle breeze off the water blew at my skirt.
“Rose,” I said. “This is Dean. Your father.”
She regarded him hesitantly, then stepped forward in a polite way and hugged him. He clung to her, and raw emotion welled up in me. I wanted to weep for all the lost happiness that could have been ours if not for the tragedy of Melanie Brown’s death. I grieved not only for that young woman but for Dean and Rose.
When he stepped back and spoke, his voice shook. “It’s nice to meet you. After all this time.”
“You too. I think,” she replied, truthfully.
He lowered his gaze. “I’m not sure where to begin. Could we sit down?” He gestured toward the bench.
Rose nodded and started off toward it, so I backed away and strolled to the railing to give them some space.