“I’m so sorry, Emma,” I said.

“Yeah,” White said. “Tough day for you, young lady.”

Glancing out the window, I noticed that the medical examiner’s assistant had arrived. She wore the baseball cap with HCME printed on the front, a T-shirt with the same logo, and cargo pants, and was staring down at the spot where the child had been found. Then she turned to the Crime Scene Unit officers and made a sweeping gesture that took in the entire lot.

This caught Emma’s attention, too. “Something’s happening. Can I go out there? I won’t get in the way.”

“Like I said before, I don’t think-” White started.

“You’ve got her story,” I said. “Let her go, Don.”

“All right,” he said wearily. “But we stay outside the tape.” He turned to me. “I suppose you’re coming, too?”

“Certainly,” I said.

We all got out of the car, and they walked ahead of me while I speed-dialed Jeff. God, how I wished he were in town.

6

I hung back from Emma and White and gave Jeff a brief summary of this morning’s events. He told me White and Benson were experienced investigators who’d solved plenty of cases. He also said he’d brief DeShay, his partner, and see if there was anything he could do to help Emma. After talking to him, I felt a little better. But though Jeff vouched for the investigators, Erwin Mayo still had me worried.

I had no idea what his next move might be, but his crew sure wasn’t happy. I could tell by their faces as Sergeant Benson herded them back to the trailer. Benson walked side by side with a cameraman, his notebook ready.

The only people left on the street were Stu, Chelsea and Mayo, who were huddled, talking. I had a feeling Emma and I might not like their game plan. Then there were the onlookers held back by portable fences on the sidewalk across the street. You couldn’t swing a dead rat without hitting someone; that was how much the crowd had swelled. The news vans had been kept a block away, but several reporters continually shouted questions to any cop who came close, hoping for an interview. Bet this had been breaking news on every local TV channel.

I joined Emma and Don White near Emma’s driveway, and we watched the careful work of the ME’s assistant. The folks working the scene were in no hurry. Heck, at the pace they were going they might be done by the second Wednesday of next month. After about thirty minutes, White left us to consult with the other cops, but kept glancing our way. Guess he thought Emma might make a run onto the property. Like I’d let her do that.

The only good thing that happened during the hour we stood there was the pleasant cool front that blew in. At least we weren’t sweating like hogs anymore. Emma called a friend and made arrangements for her brother and sister to be picked up and taken to the hotel. With that settled, she seemed more relaxed and far more interested than I was in the activity going on in front of us. CSU officers, the Harris County Medical Examiner’s assistant and cops doing their jobs. I’d seen it all before.

“Why do you think they’re taking so long?” Emma finally asked. “What’s left of her tiny body shouldn’t stay in the dirt any longer.”

I put an arm around her shoulders. “They have their protocols. And I’m guessing they’re looking for more graves. You see the grid they’ve made?” I pointed at the small stakes and the strings connecting them. “The CSU officers are sifting through every inch of ground looking for more bones or maybe even more bodies.”

Emma folded her arms and moved away from me. “More bodies? That’s ridiculous.”

“Like I said, they follow procedure. Any evidence from the scene is vital in a case like this. The city and state have an obligation to that baby, and they have to make sure no one else is buried there.”

“You mean like my mother?” Emma said. “Does Sergeant White think I killed them and buried them in my yard?” She wasn’t angry, just incredulous.

“I have no idea what he thinks. I’m certain the evidence will convince him of the truth-that you have nothing to hide. But count on being questioned again. Probably Shannon and Luke will be brought in, too.”

“Why? They don’t know anything.”

“The police have to make sure,” I said.

Emma returned her gaze to where the CSU officers were gathering small items impossible to identify from where we stood. “So everything they collect is important-like the bags of soil I saw them taking away. How can dirt from my yard help them learn the truth?”

“From what little I know about soil collection, the earth around the spot where they found the bones will help establish when your sister died and maybe even when the body was placed in that spot.”

Emma looked at me. “How long will that take?”

“I wish I knew.”

We again turned our attention to the yard. The ME’s assistant was carefully lifting the trash bag, supporting her bundle, ready to slide it into a body bag. What was probably left of that tiny skeleton could have fit in a giant Ziploc. But they needed that trash bag. It might hold answers. Answers Emma needed.

Emma made the sign of the cross and bowed her head.

I clasped my hands and stared down at the sidewalk in respect for the child who had died, had perhaps been buried alive under that house-a thought I would never share with Emma, but one that had been with me since that diaper and those bones had been discovered.

Then, before we could blink, the fab trio descended on us-Mayo, Burch and Crowell. My daddy always said that no matter how high or out of sight a bird was, it always came back to earth to eat. And these guys were ready to feast on Emma.

“If you could join us in the trailer, we have a few things to discuss, Ms. Lopez,” Mayo said. He turned and left for his luxury ride.

Hmmm, I thought. She’d been “Emma” before, but now she wasn’t getting the “we love you so much” treatment. It dawned on me then that no happily-ever-after program like Reality Check would want anything to do with dead babies. This was about business and possible lost revenue. Maybe Emma could free herself from them after all.

“What’s this about, Mr. Crowell?” Emma asked.

“Just do what he says,” Stu said. “It’s now or later, and believe me, now is your better option.”

“What are you talking about?” I asked.

“I know the man,” he said. “The longer he stews, the nastier he’ll get.”

“You got that right,” Chelsea said with an accompanying eye roll.

The Navigator started toward us before making a screeching U turn to travel the block to the trailer.

“Go,” Stu said.

I took Emma’s arm and we started walking.

Stu Crowell stayed back, camera again on his shoulder as he filmed the coroner van’s retreat. Chelsea lagged behind on our trek to the trailer. The girl was limping. Seemed those pink-and-blue boots weren’t meant for walking.

When we arrived at the trailer, the lot had been emptied of cars aside from the Navigator. The crew had either been sent to their hotel or taken to the police station on Travis. I reached up and gave a cursory knock on the trailer door. Then we ascended the two small steps and entered. Mayo was in the living area sitting on one of two leather couches that flanked a long table. Typed papers, scribbled notes and empty soda cans littered the surface in front of him.

The scent of new leather filled the small area, and Mayo gestured at the sofa across from him. “Sit.”

I heard the door squeak open again, and Mayo yelled, “Chelsea, bring me the contract. Now.”

I sat and slid over to give Emma room.

She said, “You’re ready to let me out of the deal? Is that what this is about?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He grabbed the contract from Chelsea, who had come hurrying in with the document in hand. “Get all this crap off the table so we can work here.”