Page 37

Emily’s little fingers flipped the page to pictures of kittens frolicking with butterflies.

She smiled, making Vern’s eyes crinkle as he held her in his lap while reading her the story. Emily twitched when his phone rang, and he calmed her.

The call was from Bob Ellerd.

Carefully, Vern placed Emily at his feet on the floor with her book and picked up the phone.

“Bob.”

“Is this a good time, Vern?”

“Just doing a little reading.”

“Want to give you a heads-up. The case file’s gone out the door to Denise Diaz at the Chronicle .”

“That so? The entire thing?”

“Everything. I talked to the DA, and we’re compelled to release it. It was just a matter of time.”

“I figured.”

“Some things in there might open old wounds for you, for Carrie.”

“Most all of them have been open a long time, Bob.”

“Whatever Denise writes, it won’t be much more than a rehash of things. Still, nobody likes to have someone looking over their shoulder.”

“Most folks don’t understand investigative work.”

“It was all done by the book. I know it and you know it.”

“That’s right.”

“I’ll let you get back to reading.”

“I appreciate the call, Bob.”

Tucking his phone in his pocket, Vern watched his granddaughter chattering at the pictures in her story. Grunting, he lifted her back on his lap. Looking at her face, her eyes, he saw Carrie’s face, Carrie’s eyes, pulling him back to the day at her school in Principal Taylor’s office. On that day, his words were mammoth jagged boulders, rammed so tight in his throat he could barely get them out to tell her that her mother had a brain seizure, fell down the stairs and died.

Carrie’s scream had pierced him, like the silent one in his heart when he saw her in her hospital bed on that day of horror in Wild Pines Forest…

…unconscious, her bruised face bandaged, the tubes, the monitors… Only after the doctor repeatedly assures him she’s stable does he release her hand and break away, driving from the hospital to the woods…fear eating at him… What was she doing in the woods? Was she alone, despondent about her mom, using drugs or drinking? Was it a boy? Was she attacked?

Or was it something else?

Arriving at the scene, his radio a riot of transmissions from Bob Ellerd and other deputies in Wild Pines…telling him where to enter… A deputy waiting at the edge…guiding him…light dimming in the cool forest…earthy smells…going deeper…branches tugging and slapping… Meeting another deputy pointing, not touching… “We found this here…” A woman’s sneaker…not Carrie’s…more static-filled radio blasts…

“This way, Sheriff.”

Branches pulling, scraping…as if the trees are pleading…do not go farther…a bird screeching…the air ominous. He comes to Ellerd, who is squatting, turning to him. Ellerd’s face sober, he moves aside to reveal a body…white, female…twisted clothing blood-streaked…a shoe missing… Ellerd stands and leads him a few yards to a second body…white female…blood-soaked clothing…legs in a running posture as if felled in midflight.

What in God’s name happened? Taking a breath, assuming order in the chaos… “Looks like they were shot,” a deputy says. They must protect the scene…anything and everything is evidence…fibers, hair, shoe impressions, broken branches… Bring in Forensics…medical examiner…assign detectives…search for casings…a weapon…other victims…video or photographs…measure…sketch… Some deputies cannot hide their anguish. In a small community people know people…even without official confirmation they know the dead…

Abby Hall and Erin Eddowes…

More help arrives…working the scene…grid searching…metal detectors…a dog… Tape is stretched around trees…along the presumed trail—do not contaminate the scene, protect the scene—but he feels eyes cast toward him…hears the whispers…detects trailing glances. Word has spread…something monstrous emerging from a mist…the specter of suspicion… Carrie was here…pulled from the water…in the hospital. The girls are from Carrie’s school, two dead but she survived…she’s part of this…

What in God’s name happened?

Everything’s in motion…procedures are being followed. He needs to get back to Carrie at the hospital. He signs off with Ellerd…stepping back alone through the forest…the yelp and squawk of radios echo…his mind on fire with questions…he needs answers from his daughter…

Moving through the brush…branches yanking and hitting him…he steps on something…stops…looks down. What’s this? Cannot believe what he sees…reflexively reaching for his radio to alert the others while lowering himself…catching his breath… He freezes, examining what he’s found, and tiny hairs on the back of his neck stiffen… He does not use his radio…he tells no one…

Vern felt gentle wriggling in his arms.

His granddaughter’s soft babbling pulled him from the forest to her, her little smile and eyes brightening as she flipped to another page in her book.

Suddenly he saw Donnie Ray Hyde, heard his last words before his execution.

I am sorry for what I done. I am sorry for the pain I caused.

Vern swallowed, then smiled at Emily.

“It’s all right, sweetheart.” He kissed the top of her head. “It’s all behind us.”