Chapter 2 - The Body in the White Coffin)
Detective Monroe ordered the room cleared.
Nobody left the property.
The coffin became a crime scene.
Alex sat on the bottom step of the staircase with Lily pressed against his chest while forensic technicians photographed the room.
Lily had stopped crying.
That frightened him more.
Children should cry at funerals.
They should not become silent witnesses.
He brushed red hair from her forehead.
“Did Mommy tell you anything before… before this happened?”
Lily nodded.
“What?”
“She told me to remember the blue bird.”
“What blue bird?”
“I don’t know.”
“Was it a toy?”
Lily shook her head.
“A picture?”
Another shake.
“She said if Grandma got angry, remember the blue bird.”
Alex glanced toward Teresa.
His mother sat under police supervision near the window.
Her hands were clasped tightly.
She was watching Lily.
Not grieving.
Watching.
Alex stood and carried his daughter into the library.
Monroe followed.
“You’re doing the right thing,” she said quietly.
“I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“You’re listening to your daughter.”
“That should have happened three days ago.”
“You weren’t here.”
“I should have been.”
Monroe said nothing.
Alex looked through the glass doors toward the living room.
“Open the coffin.”
“We’re waiting for the medical examiner.”
“I need to see her.”
“I understand.”
“No, you don’t.”
Monroe met his stare without flinching.
“You’re right. But if that coffin contains your wife, the body may tell us things someone worked very hard to hide.”
“And if it doesn’t?”
Monroe paused.
“Then this gets much bigger.”
The medical examiner arrived thirty-eight minutes later.
Dr. Evelyn Shaw was direct, impatient, and unwilling to let the family dictate anything.
She ordered Beatrice to provide all embalming paperwork.
Beatrice produced a folder.
Shaw reviewed it.
Then reviewed it again.
“These signatures are wrong.”
Beatrice stiffened.
“What do you mean?”
“You claim Dr. Simon Bell authorized release of the remains.”
“Yes.”
“Dr. Bell’s medical license was suspended seven weeks ago.”
Nobody moved.
Beatrice blinked.
“I wasn’t aware.”
“You’re a licensed funeral director. You’re required to verify.”
Teresa spoke from across the room.
“This is ridiculous.”
Shaw looked at her.
“Mrs. Carter, if you’d like to continue interrupting, I can ask the officers to relocate you.”
Teresa closed her mouth.
The coffin lid was unsealed.
Alex stood beside Lily in the hallway.
He had told himself he would not look.
Then the lid opened.
And he did.
A woman lay inside.
Dark hair.
Pale face.
Closed eyes.
Clara.
His knees nearly failed.
Lily buried her face in his coat.
Alex stared at the body.
Something was wrong.
He did not know what.
Not at first.
Then he saw the hands.
Clara had broken the smallest finger on her right hand during college. It had healed slightly crooked.
The woman in the coffin had perfectly straight fingers.
Alex stepped closer.
“Wait.”
Shaw looked up.
“What?”
“That’s not her hand.”
Teresa inhaled sharply.
Alex lifted his eyes toward her.
“What did you do?”
“Alex…”
He reached toward the body.
Shaw stopped him.
“Don’t touch.”
“That isn’t my wife.”
Beatrice whispered.
“It looks exactly like her.”
Alex moved closer anyway.
Clara had a tiny burn scar just beneath her left ear from a curling iron accident when she was sixteen.
He knew because he used to kiss it.
The corpse had no scar.
His entire body went cold.
“That is not Clara.”
Lily slowly raised her head.
“What?”
Teresa stood.
“This is grief talking.”
Alex spun toward her.
“I slept beside my wife for eleven years!”
“Faces change after death.”
“Not broken bones!”
Monroe stepped forward.
“Mrs. Carter, sit down.”
Teresa did not.
“This is insane.”
Shaw examined the body carefully.
Then she looked at Alex.
“There are cosmetic prosthetics around the jaw.”
The room went silent.
“Prosthetics?” Monroe asked.
Shaw touched the woman’s hairline with gloved fingers.
“This has been altered.”
Beatrice backed away.
“No.”
Shaw carefully lifted a section of dark hair.
A wig.
Beneath it was shorter gray-blonde hair.
Lily screamed.
Alex caught her before she fell.
Teresa rushed toward the door.
An officer blocked her.
Derek began shaking.
Not metaphorically.
His hands were visibly trembling.
Alex saw him.
“You knew.”
Derek shook his head.
“You knew that wasn’t Clara.”
“I didn’t know who was inside!”
“But you knew.”
“I thought they were bluffing!”
“Who?”
Derek closed his eyes.
“Richard.”
Alex’s boss.
Again.
Monroe moved closer.
“What exactly did Richard Voss tell you?”
Derek looked at Teresa.
She slowly shook her head.
That was enough.
Derek broke.
“He said Clara found something. Something she wasn’t supposed to see. He said they only needed to scare her long enough to get it back.”
“What?”
“I don’t know!”
“You expect me to believe that?”
“Yes!”
Teresa screamed.
“Shut up!”
Arthur suddenly made a harsh choking sound.
Everyone turned.
He had managed to point one trembling finger at Teresa.
Then at Derek.
Then toward the ceiling.
Lily whispered.
“Grandpa wants upstairs.”
Alex looked at the second floor.
“What’s upstairs?”
Derek stared at the carpet.
Teresa whispered his name again.
This time Alex heard fear.
Real fear.
He handed Lily to Monroe.
Then walked toward the stairs.
Teresa tried to follow.
An officer stopped her.
Alex climbed slowly.
At the top of the staircase, Arthur began pounding the wheelchair armrest again.
One pound.
Then another.
Alex entered his bedroom.
Nothing.
Clara’s dressing room.
Nothing.
Lily’s room.
Nothing.
Then he reached the guest room where Arthur had slept since his stroke because the ground-floor renovation had never been completed.
The bed looked untouched.
The curtains were closed.
Alex noticed scrape marks on the floor beside a bookcase.
He pushed.
The bookcase shifted.
May you like
Behind it was a narrow door.
And behind that door was a staircase Alex had never known existed in the home where he had lived for twelve years.
