The Familiar Dark(7)

Land gave a small shrug, held up both hands. “Of course I don’t. But I have to dot all my i’s and cross all my t’s. That’s the way these investigations work.”

I snuck a glance at Zach, saw the muscle in his jaw jumping. “I took a twenty-minute lunch break. Late, around two. Went down the road and grabbed a sandwich.”

That took him off the hook, assuming he was telling the truth. The boat dealership was a good thirty minutes away, in the next town along the highway. One with a Dollar General and a McDonald’s and an actual library, small as it was. There was no way Zach could have gotten from there to here, killed two girls, and gotten back in twenty minutes. Not that I’d actually entertained the idea he might have done it. But still, it was good to check his name off the list in my head.

“And what about you?” Land asked, turning to Jenny.

“I was home all day,” Jenny said. She still seemed confused about why he was asking. Surely he didn’t think she could have done this awful thing.

“Didn’t go anywhere after the girls left?”

“No.”

I leaned around Zach to look at her. “I tried to call you around three. You didn’t answer.”

Jenny blinked at me. Her eyes were big and brown and protruded a little, like some kind of innocent woodland creature. “I . . . I was home. Maybe I was doing laundry? The dryer can be loud.” She looked from me to Zach and back again.

“Why did you call her?” Land asked me.

“To check on Junie. She doesn’t . . .” I paused, sucked in a breath. “Didn’t have a cell phone. I wanted to make sure she was going to be home by five.”

“Did you leave a message?” Zach asked, voice hard, like I was the one with something to hide.

“No,” I said. “I was planning to call back later, but I got busy.”

“What about Izzy?” Land asked. “She got a cell phone?”

Zach nodded. “My old iPhone. A 5 or a 6.”

“A 6s,” Jenny said. “Black. It’s got a crack in one corner of the screen. A pink glitter case. Did you find it?”

Land didn’t answer, scrawled something on his notepad.

Jenny shifted back in her chair. The legs caught on the nappy carpet, and she pitched forward as she tried to stand. She put one hand on the table to steady herself. “I need to go home,” she said. “I can’t do this right now. Please. I’ve had enough.”

The second the words were out of her mouth, Land was standing, saying, “Sure, sure, we can talk more tomorrow.” Somehow I was pretty sure if I’d been the one asking for an end to the conversation, Land would have found a way to put me off, telling me only a few more questions, we’d be done soon.

I stayed seated as Jenny and Zach shuffled out behind me, no one meeting anyone’s eyes. I waited until they were out in the hall, Land shaking both their hands and patting Jenny on the shoulder, before I looked at Cal.

“You ready to go?” he asked.

“No,” I said. “I want to see her.”





THREE


No, you don’t,” Cal said, quick as a whip. “Evie, trust me. You don’t.”

“I do,” I said.

Cal pushed off the wall, came toward me with hands outstretched. “Okay, well, at least wait until . . . after. When the funeral people have her cleaned up. Not now.”

“Now,” I said. “I need to, Cal. I have to.”

“It’s her, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Cal said. “I saw her. It’s Junie.”

I shook my head. It wasn’t that. I didn’t doubt that Junie was gone. Already I could feel a gaping hole in the world where she used to be. But I needed to see, to be a witness to what had happened to my daughter. I couldn’t live the rest of my life and not know, go on without having seen it with my own eyes. Junie had endured so much. The least I could do for her was endure this. “Let me see her, Cal.” That stubborn set to my voice that Cal had heard a hundred times before and knew better than to argue against. “I’m not leaving until you do.”

The bodies were down in the basement, in the embalming room. Cal and Land led me down the steps, the smell of formaldehyde hitting me in the face the second they pushed through the door into the hallway. It reminded me of high school biology, slimy frogs, split open and flayed, organs shimmering under too-bright lights. My vision swam, and I sucked in a deep breath through my nose, let it out slowly through my mouth.

“You sure you want to do this?” Land asked, eyebrows raised. “I’d advise against it.” He hitched his pants up. “I’ve seen a lot of bodies in my day, and once you see ’em, you can’t unsee ’em.”

I barely glanced at him. “I’m sure.”

“Always were a stubborn one,” Land muttered under his breath, but waved me forward to where Cal was standing next to a set of swinging doors. “Don’t touch her.” Land pointed at me. “Not at all. I’m gonna watch through the window just to make sure.”

“You want me to go in with you?” Cal asked, but I shook my head. “All right, then,” he said. “She’s on the left.” He laid a hand on my back. “I’ll be waiting right out here.”