Vegas, Baby by Sandra Edwards

immaculate red car, beaming with pride.
    “Does he still have it?” she asked of the Chevelle. Did his fascination, so clearly displayed in the photograph, still remain for the car?
    “Uhm...” Eddie hesitated and fiddled with the pictures. “My father died about twenty years ago.”
    “Hey, I’m sorry.” She caressed his arm with a consoling touch.
    “Don’t be,” he said, moving on to the next picture. “This is my mother.” His voice brightened.
    “Wow…she’s beautiful.”
    “Yes, she is.”
    Rio was looking at him now, probably comparing him to the younger version of his parents. His eyes were the mark of his father, but his face, he’d been told more often than not, was a masculine version of his mother’s.
    Sometimes he’d been called pretty, but he didn’t care for the term. It was a little too feminine for his tastes.
    “You look like your mom,” she said. “In a manly sort of way.”
    Eddie let out a soft chuckle and led her through the stack of pictures, explaining the hows, wheres, and whys that brought each picture into existence.
    The last photograph brought with it a dark veil that blanketed Eddie’s spirit as he studied the image of his sister Olivia, a child of eight, frozen in time. She looked more like their father.
    Eddie’s heart began to cry. Soon, inevitable tears would blur his vision, and there was nothing he could do to stop them. He gave himself a mental admonishing for showing his weakness to someone who could very well use it to her advantage.
    He hoped he was wrong, but he didn’t know enough about Rio to make a skilled guess.
    His thoughts had traveled too far to stop now. “This is my sister, Olivia.” His sadness poured out to his lips, curling them into a sad smile. Slowly, he traced his fingertips over the image, willing his heartache to subside. It didn’t.
    “What happened to her?” Rio’s soft whisper barely penetrated his sorrow.
    Eddie’s breath caught in his throat. She knew. But how? Was she so in tune with him that she felt his pain? He closed his eyes, challenging the tears that were part of the bargain every time he recalled that awful day.
    His mother had said he’d been sick. While he did recall being home from school, the illness itself was not in his memories. But then, he was only six.
    The one detail that was there—the one he wished he could get rid of—was the sound of the doorbell ringing, and then the sight of the policemen at the door. The cop in his memories had no face. He was just this big, gigantic man dressed in blue. And while the policeman was only the courier, his message had changed the LaCall family forever.
    If only he could get rid of the memory of his mother collapsing and dropping to the floor amid her terrible screams of despair. If only the sight of the policemen standing over her, not knowing what to say or do, didn’t tug at Eddie’s heartstrings. If only they’d caught the monster.
    Eddie lifted his dewy gaze to look at Rio. Tears crested her eyes as if she’d heard his thoughts, felt his pain.
    “Olivia’s class had gone on a field trip.” His voice gave way to his misery. “They don’t know how long she’d been gone when the two teachers accompanying the class realized she was missing.” Eddie paused, trapping his heart at the top of his chest before it had the chance to claw its way up into his throat. “They found her three days later, thrown out like trash in some dumpster…” His tone hardened as his mind reflected on what his sister had endured before she died. “Naked, battered and bruised, and strangled.” Eddie’s words choked on him, just like his thoughts had so many times before.
    Rio’s delicate hands took his face and held it. If only she could make the pain go away.
    “I couldn’t help her...” Tears of remorse flushed his eyes. “Brothers are supposed to look after their sisters.”
    She moved closer to him. “Oh, baby…” Her breath softly fanned his face. “Let me help