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Shaun doesn’t respond. I really screwed up.
“I’ll call the doctor first thing in the morning. I’m sure everything is fine. I feel fine.”
“I just can’t believe you’d take this chance, Maggie,” Shaun says. “We’ve gotten this far, we can’t have anything happen now.”
“Nothing’s going to happen,” I snap. “It’s just one appointment. I said I’ll call tomorrow.”
“Okay, fine,” Shaun says. I know it’s not fine.
“I’m on my way home,” I tell him, softening my tone.
“Don’t hurry because of me,” Shaun says flatly. “I’m working late tonight.” Then silence. He hung up on me.
I sigh and rub my forehead. Obviously from the sheer number of documents collected, my dad and the sheriff’s department were very thorough in their investigation but their organization skills left something to be desired. That wasn’t like my dad. Were his memory issues already surfacing? I couldn’t put my finger on exactly when my dad began to fail but I’m almost positive it wasn’t back then.
Our new chief, on the other hand, had no history of neurological decline. What was his excuse? I would have to tread lightly. Digby not only had decades more experience than I did in law enforcement, he was my boss. It would do no good to openly criticize their investigation.
I pull the lid off a cardboard box labeled Eve Knox—Interviews and am met with a stack of papers that nearly spill over the edge. “Jesus,” I murmur.
What a mess.
I start with the page at the top and begin to arrange the interviews in alphabetical order. Once I have them organized and inserted into a new binder I begin to read.
I see names of classmates that I haven’t thought about in years. Most don’t have anything useful to add. No, they didn’t see Eve after she left school on December twenty-second. No, they didn’t have any idea as to who might want to hurt her. She was nice, she had no enemies, she loved her boyfriend and he loved her, her sister was weird.
I knew what that was like—loving someone but being afraid of them. I wish Eve and I could have talked about it. Who we loved and what we feared. Maybe we could have helped each other through it, together. Maybe things could have turned out differently.
The statement from Miss Cress, the Grotto High art teacher, is kind of cryptic. She mentioned that Eve had come to her the day she died a bit upset but didn’t reveal much about why. Eve was supposed to meet with Miss Cress after school but never showed up. I wonder what they were going to talk about.
I come across the transcript of the interview I did with Dex Stroope back in 1995 and immediately set it aside. I’m not ready to read it yet. That was such an awful night. I remember crying nearly all the way through and running to the bathroom several times to vomit. I couldn’t believe my friend was gone. Forever. My dad finally stepped in to end the interview. Enough, he said.
I slam the binder shut. Enough. This was enough for now. Tomorrow, I’ll do a few quick follow-up interviews and then pack up the evidence and get it sent off to the lab. It will take some time to get the results; there is always a big backlog at the state lab when it comes to testing evidence.
I rise from my seat. I need to go home to the orchard, to the apple trees and my cats and my husband. I want to lie on the couch with my hands resting on my abdomen feeling the baby move beneath my fingers. I want to be lulled to sleep by my little girl floating within the ocean of my womb.
My hand is on the light switch when I pause and turn back to the shelf. I reach for the thick binder of interviews and tuck it beneath my arm and shut and lock the door with a gentle click.
911 Transcript
Item #1—911 Call
Grotto Police Department
Transcript of 911 Call for Service
12/22/95—9:48 p.m.
DISPATCHER: 911, What is your emergency?
VB: Someone’s been killed. I’ve got two girls here who say they found a dead girl. Please hurry!
DISPATCHER: What’s your address?
VB: 29 Ransom Lane. Please hurry. She said her sister was killed. What if he’s still out there?
DISPATCHER: Killed? As in murdered?
VB: Yes!
