“I don’t like Sara mixed up in this,” Jeffrey said, and she understood that one of the things driving his anger was the fact that Sara’s involvement might put her in jeopardy. “The postmark was local,” he said. “It’s somebody in the county, in Grant.”
“Could be someone from the farm knew better than to mail it from Catoogah,” she pointed out, thinking anyone could’ve dropped a letter by the Grant post office.
“It was sent Monday,” he said. “So whoever did it knew what was going on and wanted to warn us.” His flashlight beam flickered and he shook it to no avail. “This is fucking ridiculous.”
He held his portable radio to his hand, clicking the mic. “Frank?”
A few seconds passed before Frank asked, “Yeah?”
“We’ll have to get lights out here,” he said. “Call the hardware store and see if we can borrow anything.”
“Will do.”
Lena waited until Frank had signed off before trying to reason with Jeffrey. “There’s no way we’ll be able to cover the whole area tonight.”
“You want to come out here tomorrow morning and realize some girl could have been saved tonight if we hadn’t knocked off early?”
“It’s late,” she told him. “We could walk right past it and not even know.”
“Or we could find it,” he told her. “Whatever happens, we’re back here tomorrow looking again. I don’t care if we have to get bulldozers out here and dig up every fucking square inch. You got me?”
She looked down, continuing to hunt for something she wasn’t even sure was there.
Jeffrey followed suit, but he didn’t give up. “I should’ve done this Sunday. We should’ve been out in full force, gotten volunteers.” Jeffrey stopped. “What was going on with you and Terri Stanley?”
Her attempt at a casual “What do you mean?” sounded pathetic even to Lena.
“Don’t dick me around,” he warned. “Something’s going on.”
Lena licked her lips, feeling like a trapped animal. “She had too much to drink at the picnic last year,” Lena lied. “I found her in the bathroom with her head in the toilet.”
“She’s an alcoholic?” Jeffrey asked, obviously ready to condemn the woman.
Lena knew this was one of his buttons, and not knowing what else to do, she pressed it hard. “Yeah,” she said, thinking Terri Stanley could live with Jeffrey thinking she was a drunk as long as her husband didn’t find out what she was doing in Atlanta last week.
Jeffrey asked, “You think she makes a habit of it?”
“Don’t know.”
“She was sick?” he asked. “Throwing up?”
Lena felt a cold sweat as she forced herself to lie, knowing even as she did it that she was making the best choice given the circumstances. “I told her she’d better straighten out,” she said. “I think she’s got it under control.”
“I’ll talk to Sara,” he said, and her heart sank. “She’ll call Child Services.”
“No,” Lena said, trying not to sound desperate. It was one thing to lie, quite another to get Terri into trouble. “I told you she’s got it under control. She’s going to meetings and everything.” She racked her brain for some of Hank’s AA talk, feeling like a spider caught in its own web. “Got her chip last month.”
He narrowed his eyes, probably trying to decide if she was being honest or not.
“Chief?” his radio crackled. “West corner near the college. We’ve got something.”
Jeffrey took off, and Lena found herself running after him, the beam from her flashlight bobbing as she pumped her arms. Jeffrey had at least ten years on her, but he was a hell of a lot faster than she was. When he made it to the crowd of uniformed patrolmen standing in the clearing, she was still a good twenty feet behind him.
By the time she caught up, Jeffrey was kneeling beside an indentation in the earth. A rusted metal pipe was sticking up about two inches into the air. Whoever had spotted the site must have done so out of sheer luck. Even knowing what to look for, Lena was having trouble keeping her focus on the pipe.
Brad Stephens came running from behind her. He was holding two shovels and a crowbar. Jeffrey grabbed one of the shovels and they both started digging. The night air was cool, but they were both sweating by the time the first shovel thumped against wood. The hollow sound stayed in Lena ’s ears as Jeffrey knelt down to brush away the last of the dirt with his hands. He must have done this same thing with Sara on Sunday. She couldn’t imagine what the anticipation had been like for him, the dread when he realized what he was uncovering. Even now, Lena was having a hard time accepting that someone in Grant was capable of doing such a horrible thing.
Brad jammed the crowbar into the edge of the box, and together he and Jeffrey worked to pry away the wood. One slat came up, flashlights shining eagerly into the opening. A foul odor escaped- not of rotting flesh, but of mustiness and decay. Jeffrey put his shoulder into the crowbar as he pried another board, the wood bending back on itself like a folded sheet of paper. The pulp was soaking wet, dirt staining it a dark black. Obviously, the box had been buried in the earth for a long time. In the crime scene photos of the grave by the lake, the grave had looked new, the green pressure-treated wood doing its job of holding back the elements even as it held in the girl.
Using his bare hands, Jeffrey pulled up the sixth board. Flashlights illuminated the interior of the stained box. He sat back on his heels, his shoulders sagging either from relief or disappointment. Lena felt her own mixture of both emotions.
The box was empty.
Lena had stayed around the potential crime scene until the last sample was taken. The box had practically disintegrated over time, the wood soaking into the ground. That the box was older than the first they had found was obvious, just as it was obvious that the box had been used for the same thing. Deep fingernail scratches gouged out the top pieces Jeffrey had pried away. Dark stains riddled the bottom. Someone had bled in there, shit in there, maybe died in there. When and why were just two more questions to add to the growing list. Thankfully, Jeffrey had finally accepted that they couldn’t continue looking for another box in the pitch dark. He had called off the search and told a crew of ten to show up again at daybreak.
Back at the station, Lena had washed her hands, not bothering to change into the spare outfit she kept in her locker, knowing nothing but a long, hot shower could wash away some of the distress she was feeling. Yet, when she came to the road that led into her neighborhood, she found herself downshifting the Celica, making an illegal U-turn to bypass her street. She unlatched her seat belt and drove with her knees while she shrugged off her jacket. The windows slid down with the touch of a button, and she turned off the noise coming from the radio, wondering how long it had been since she had a moment to herself like this. Ethan thought she was still at work. Nan was probably getting ready for bed and Lena was totally alone with nothing but her own thoughts to keep her company.
She drove through downtown again, slowing as she passed the diner, thinking about Sibyl, the last time she had seen her. Lena had screwed up so many things since then. There was a time when no matter what, she didn’t let her personal life interfere with her job. Being a cop was the one thing she was good at, the one thing Lena knew how to do. She had let her connection to Terri Stanley get in the way of her duties. Yet again, her emotions were jeopardizing the only thing in Lena ’s life that was a constant. What would Sibyl say about Lena now? How ashamed would her sister be at the kind of person Lena had become?
Main Street dead-ended at the entrance of the college, and Lena took a left into the children’s clinic, turning around and heading back out of town. She rolled up the windows as the chill got to her and found herself fiddling with the dials on the radio, trying to find something soft to keep her company. She glanced up as she passed the Stop-N-Go, and recognized the black Dodge Dart parked beside one of the gas pumps.