a/n: I'll be able to update faster now since school is over. Sorry it took so long.

disclaimer: I own nothing.

Chapter 6: Secrets and Promises

Derek spent the rest of that weekend in two parts. During the day, he spent it with his kids. He never left their sides at the Children's Museum and continued to do activities with them. Though he gave Casey the cold shoulder, he was pleasant to everyone else. By night, he continued his search for Clara. The only lead he got was an article in the paper that mentioned a scholarship she had received when she graduated. Derek saved the article on the computer, placing it in a file that he hoped Casey wouldn't discover too quickly.

By Monday, Derek had two options. He could either go into the store that he and Sam started or stay at home all day with Casey. Of course, Derek leaped for the former, tossing aside Casey's disgruntled comments on how he might not be ready. She was afraid for him to see the place where he almost died and wanted to come but Derek implied not to discretely that it was his and Sam's business, not hers. So, Casey backed off, trying to give him what he wanted.

Sam picked him up Monday morning and both of them entered the store slowly.

"Now, if you want to leave at any time, just say the word and we're gone," Sam told him.

"Geez Sam, you almost fuss as much as Casey," Derek joked as he pushed past him and went inside.

Derek stopped just inside the door, taking it all in. He had memories after looking at some pictures in an album the night before. He knew that he opened the store after university, majoring in business when he had a hockey injury that would forever keep him off the ice in a competitive sense. The store looked different from his memories somehow.

"Wasn't there paint that chipped there from a shelf that fell?" Derek pointed. He had remembered that because luckily, there was nothing on it when it fell. It caused a huge dent in the paint but there was no mark now.

"Oh, there was. We painted it last year. Well, I should say Casey did. We hired some painters and Casey offered to stay in the store to supervise. You know, just in case something went wrong. Well, it turns out that the painters never showed and Casey didn't want to have another business day lost so she painted the entire store herself. Sabrina and I never would have known though. Casey never told us. It was only, when a month later the painters did show up, having the dates mixed up that we realized what actually happened," Sam praised.

Derek nodded, a bit surprised that Casey didn't whine that she painted the store by herself. In fact, he began to realize that Casey never whined at all anymore. She just let whatever he said roll off her back. He figured though that she was trying to be nice to the coma guy. He assumed that the kindness would soon stop.

As he was looking around, he slowly walked towards the desk where the cash register was. With Sam on his heels, he walked around it and knew that this was the exact place he almost died. For the first time since he woke up, he had a memory of that moment.

"Just take whatever you want," Derek said to the mask man.

"I plan to," the man replied in a deep, husky, scratchy voice. It was almost as if he was trying to disguise it.

"What do you want?" Derek asked, trying to push aside the gut feeling that he knew this person.

"The death of your daisy," the man answered just before he shot him.

"Oh my god," Derek said, grabbing the counter.

"What? What's wrong?" Sam asked, concerned for his friend.

"I remember something," Derek replied.

"What?"

"Something the guy said before he shot me. Something I didn't remember before. Something that might help the police find my attempted murderer. I have to go," he said abruptly as he walked towards the door.

"Where are you going?" Sam asked, following him.

"To the police station."

"I'm coming too."

"No, stay and manage the store, I'll come back," Derek mumbled as he ran out of the store.

---

Detective Jim Waters sighed as he sat in his chair. Five years ago, he had been put on the case of the attempted murder of Derek Venturi. He remembered meeting Casey Venturi a couple days after the terrible incident happened.

He walked into the room just as she woke up from a nap. The nurse had wanted to bring the baby but he asked if he could have a few minutes to question Casey.

After a couple of minutes, Jim was saddened because Casey could not help him get any answers. She couldn't think of anyone that would have a motive to attack her husband. The police were trying to look at all angles but they suspected that it was most likely a random robbery.

He remembered her broken hearted state: her face tearstained, her eyes red and blotchy: she spent most of her time crying. Her hair hadn't been brushed in days and she was getting very little sleep and the little she did get was due to the sleeping pills the nurses insisted she took. She was too worried and distraught to fall asleep on her own.

Jim had tried to imagine his wife facing this situation but he couldn't without feeling completely terrible. He impulsively reached out and grabbed Casey's hands, holding it in between his.

"I'm going to find who did this and make him pay," he told her.

Casey nodded, tears silently streaming down her cheeks. "Thank you, but honestly, I don't really care," she said.

Jim was a bit shocked at this comment. He began to wonder if maybe Casey had been involved in the attempted murder on her husband.

"What I mean," Casey continued, oblivious to his poker face, "is that if you catch the person who had single-handedly ripped my life apart in a mere number of seconds, it won't matter. It won't bring Derek back. For all we know, this person could have been robbing the store to feed his family, or maybe he was just a child himself: a teenager that didn't really know what he was doing or understands the consequences. There is a part of me that desperately wants justice but I won't be one of those people who have lost a loved one and think that a great deal of justice will mend my broken heart. Justice may shrink that aching hole in my heart but only Derek can completely fix it."

Jim nodded, trying to understand what she was saying but did not fully comprehend it. He became a cop because the one thing he believed in this world was justice. Casey Venturi believed in something more. She had faith that her husband was going to wake up.

"I'll still hold to my promise though. When your husband wakes up, I'll be proud to hear you tell him that the person who did this will never be able to do it again," he finally said.

Casey just nodded, not fully into the conversation.

After many months of investigating, Jim was losing hope. In the beginning, he had called Casey once a day to give her updates. Then when the leads were getting colder, coming up with more dead ends, he called her weekly; then monthly, then only when he had something new to tell her. Until, finally, it had been three months with nothing. The case had gone cold but Jim wouldn't accept that. He kept trying to find anything new and coming up with nothing.


Everyone figured that they weren't going to catch this person. Everyone assumed that it was most likely a random robbery because of Casey's insistence that no one would want to kill Derek. Hope was completely lost with many people.

Jim had decided to see Casey. He wanted to ask her again if she was a hundred percent sure that no one would have a motive to kill Derek.

"No," Casey said to him, stirring her tea and sitting at her kitchen table. She had just gotten Ben to sleep when Jim appeared at her door.

"No one, not anyone at all? Not even maybe one person who might have a far fetched motive? Someone he made fun of in high school that might have held a grudge?" Jim pressed.

"No. Everyone loved Derek in high school. The only person who he picked on was me," Casey replied.

Jim ran his hands through his hair. He didn't know what to tell her. He had to move on from this case. He knew that his boss was going to tell him that soon. They had absolutely nothing to investigate any more.


"It's okay," Casey said, as if reading his mind.

"What's okay?" he asked.

"That you didn't find him. Maybe that was the way it was suppose to be. You need to move on. Work on a case that's actually possible to solve. It's okay, I won't hold you to your promise," she said.


He began to weep, a first in public since he was eight years old. He wanted desperately to help Casey. He had never been so attached to a case like this before. He didn't know why. Maybe he needed to solve this because he wanted to give Casey justice or prove to her that justice can help through painful times. He couldn't give her that though.

"I'm sorry," he said repeatedly. Casey just held him, trying to comfort him.

That was the last time he had seen Casey Venturi. Now five years later, her husband woke up and he was in British Columbia, attending his daughter's wedding. Two rookie cops were the ones that interviewed Derek Venturi and he got absorbed in the case the second he came back. He was too afraid to talk to Casey though. He was scared that even with this break in the case, that he may, even now, not solve it.

Today though, he knew that he could not put off contacting Casey any longer. Not when her husband had came into the police station, asking, well more like demanding to speak to the detective that was in charge of his case.

"I'm Detective Jim Waters. It's nice to finally meet you Mr. Venturi," Jim said, sticking his hand out.

Derek shook his hand and grunted. He didn't like talking to cops and this middle age guy did not brighten his confidence that they would catch his attempted murderer. He figured he might as well tell him what he remembered but had a distinct feeling it wouldn't help much. Once the initial shock wore off, Derek figured he shouldn't have come - but it was already too late. He was here, sitting in front of an officer, waiting for him to speak.

"The robber," Derek started after Jim had given him a glass of water. He had his notepad out, ready to take notes from Derek's recollection. "He stalled. He didn't shoot me right away, yet he wasn't asking for money."

Jim nodded, expecting that this person was nervous, probably a first time offender.

"What did he say?" Jim pushed.

"When I asked him what he wanted, he said 'the death of your daisy.'"

Jim stopped writing and looked at him. "'The death of your daisy?'" he asked to make sure he heard him right and Derek nodded. "Do you know what that means?"

"Not the slightest. I don't own any daisies."

"Well, ask your friends and family, they might know."

Derek nodded again and soon after left, heading back to the store. He didn't want to tell Casey. She might think that this breakthrough as a step closer for them to be together, but he didn't want that. So he decided that keeping one more secret from her wasn't going to change much. By the time he reached the store, he was no longer thinking about his latest
memory and didn't even mention it to Sam.

---

That morning, Casey did the only thing that she could do to get her mind off everything. She danced. She felt guilty because she hadn't been creating any new choreography on her own time. Recitals and competitions were coming soon. For an hour and a half, all she did was dance. Then after she picked up Ben and gave him lunch, she grabbed her laptop from her bedroom and sat on the couch, typing in the key notes that she choreographed while Ben was lying on his stomach on the floor, watching a movie.

Taking a break from work, Casey opened up her email. She had two new messages. The first was from one of her dance students. The student wanted the cut version of her solo jazz piece. Casey quickly went to attachments to find the song. She clicked on the wrong file by accident and found that there was a document titled CB. Curious, Casey first attached the song and sent the e-mail. Then, she went to 'my computer' and searched for the CB document. Upon finding it, she discovered that it was information on Clara Brown.

Casey began to panic. If Derek found Clara, he would soon try to leave her and she wasn't prepared for that heartbreak. She was reassured though when she saw the document on Clara was just a dead end.

Closing the document, she decided that she wouldn't confront Derek. Instead, she would make periodic checks to the file for progress. She then went back to her Inbox and clicked on the other unopened message. This contact was one Casey did not recognize.

The message also confused her.

'Soon we will be together,' was all it said. She brushed it off, assuming the e-mail was probably sent to the wrong person. Even so, it was still a bit creepy and she jumped when the phone rang, breaking her concentration.

"Hello?" Casey said into the portable phone.

"Hello Casey, it's Detective Jim Waters."

"Detective, hello. It's been a long time since we've talked. How's Julie?"

Jim smiled, amazed that Casey would remember his wife's name. "She's fine."

"And Annie?"

"Fine too, she just recently got married. That's where I was, in B.C. I was at her wedding when your husband woke up."

Casey could hear in Jim's voice that he was beating himself up for not being here when Derek woke up.

"That's wonderful Jim," she said. "So what brings you to call me?"

"An update. I know it's been a long time but we have something new."

"You do?" Casey asked, sitting up straighter from the couch.

"Your husband came by. I just wanted to tell you in case he forgot. He seemed to remember something that the robber said before he shot Mr. Venturi," Jim started.

Casey was in shock. Derek had a memory of that day. She was so overwhelmed that she dropped the phone while Jim was still talking. She missed him telling her what Derek said.

"The shooter said that he wanted 'the death of your daisy,'" Jim said before he heard a crash. "Casey? Casey are you alright?"

"Yeah sorry, I dropped the phone."

"Did you hear what I said?" he questioned.

"Yeah," Casey replied, thinking he was referring to Derek having a memory.

"Well, think about it and if you come up with any new information, let me know."

"Of course, Detective. And Jim," Casey started when she felt that the conversation was about to end.

"Yeah?"

She first debated about telling him about the strange e-mail, but she felt that she was overreacting. "Thanks for trying to fulfill your promise but no pressure. Don't get stressed and effect your health over this. Please keep that promise."

"I promise that," Jim said before he hung up. After he put the phone down, he said to himself, "I will keep both promises."

The robber was excited. By now, Casey would have received his e-mail. He was going to hold onto his promise. Soon Derek will be dead and he will have Casey forever as it should have been five years ago. His secret promise to her would never be broken. "The end of Derek is near," he whispered to himself before his doorbell rang. He shut off his laptop to welcome his date inside.

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