by Ben Follows
Jeff was silent for a long moment, then said, “Bobby would know that.”
“Why?”
“Because he was in prison with Marino.”
“I’ve spoken to Marino.”
“And?” Jeff seemed like he was trying too hard to appear uninterested.
“Nothing, except he claimed to know who was kidnapping the girls.”
“Don’t listen to him, Curtis. You know better than that.”
“I know, but if he does know, then we need his cooperation.“
“Do not listen to him.” Jeff said it such anger that he seemed genuine. Maybe something had changed in the time Curtis had been gone. “Marino will tear you apart.”
Curtis looked out at the forest in front of them. “I recognize this place. It’s here.”
“Park here.”
Curtis parked on the side of the road. The forest stretched out before then, enveloping the darkness. He exited the car and took out a flashlight. He shined it between the seemingly endless trees. The police had already sent a team of dogs through here, but if Curtis’s hunch was right, they hadn’t checked everywhere.
They couldn’t have. Curtis and Jeff hadn't told anyone.
“Are you sure this is the right place?” said Curtis, shining the flashlight back and forth.
“This is the right place,” said Jeff, standing beside him. “It’s grown over a bit. Let's go.”
Jeff hesitated before walking into the trees.
Curtis knew how he felt. If they were right, they would wish they weren’t.
As they walked, their feet trampled over fallen leaves and branches only recently released from the snow. The leaves crunched beneath their feet. Jeff navigated while Curtis held the flashlight.
Jeff got lost only once and recovered quickly.
Curtis checked his watch. It was nearly midnight. The adrenaline was keeping him going, but his limited sleep over the last couple days was beginning to catch up with him.
If not for Jeff putting a hand in front of his chest, Curtis would have walked right into the Blind River.
It wasn't so much a river as it was a pond created by a widening of the river which flowed into the center of town.
“This is it,” said Curtis, aiming his flashlight down at the pond. It had served them well during their high school years.
“The Blind River,” said Jeff, smirking at the inside joke only he and Curtis knew, although he looked like he was about to hurl. “How can we check?”
Curtis shined the flashlight into the murky depths of the water. The flashlight beam didn’t make it more than three feet beneath the surface. He and Jeff had discovered this pond while they were in high school.
In a moment of panic as a teacher found them in the woods, they'd thrown a six pack of Budweiser into the nearest pond. Once they were certain they’d gotten away with, they went back to retrieve the beer.
They couldn't see the beer in the pond, as though it had vanished into thin air.
Initially they’d thought someone else had found it, but, on a hunch of Jeff’s, they'd tried again. When the bottles hit the bottom of the pond, the mud wrapped around them like comforting arms until it was like they'd never existed. The bottom of the pond was a sinkhole from which nothing returned. They'd never understood it, but had used it as much as possible. They had often joked that this was where Blind River had truly gotten its name.
Now, Curtis was hoping he was wrong about something else hidden in the mud.
“Hold this.” He handed Jeff the flashlight and took off his jacket.
“Are you serious?” said Jeff, raising an eyebrow. "You're crazy.
“I have to. It's the only way to know.” Curtis undressed, leaving just his underwear and t-shirt.
He then took off the t-shirt, feeling the chill of nighttime air on his nude chest.
He stepped into the pond all at once, not giving himself time to reconsider. He cursed as the cold water engulfed his body. Although the pond wasn’t wide, it was deep, and he had to tread water to keep above the surface.
“Anything?” said Jeff, standing a few feet away.
“Not yet," said Curtis. "Shine the flashlight into the water so I can see. I’m going to dive down.”
Jeff nodded. His right leg was shaking. He raised the flashlight above his head and illuminated the water.
Curtis took a deep breath and dove into its depths. The cold water enveloped him, his lungs instantly crying out at him to surface.
He found the bottom of the pond and began sliding his hands through the mud, trying to find something that would indicate he was right.
His hand brushed again the mud of the bottom of the pond. He knew there were countless things here that could cut him, but he had to keep looking.
He began digging through the mud, his lungs screaming at him to surface. He couldn’t give up, somehow he was certain he was right. He moved the mud away.
His heart leapt when his hand brushed something different, something smooth yet wrinkled at the same time.
He jerked his hand away and immediately felt blood seeping from his hand, warmer than the rest of his body. He had cut it on something.
His hand screamed in pain, mixed with the screaming of his lungs. Through his eyelids, Curtis could feel the flashlight beam moving back and forth across the top of the water.
Jeff was probably standing on the edge of the pond, panicking, wondering if an FBI agent had died on his watch. Curtis’s blood would be reaching the surface, making a circle of red in the middle of the beam.
Curtis couldn’t focus on that now. He had to know. He moved his uninjured hand back, looking for what he'd touched before.
He needed to be sure.
In the moment before his instincts took over and forced him to surface, he found what he'd touched before.
He grabbed it.
His heart sank.
He was right.
With a heavy heart, he released the small feminine hand sticking up from the mud at the bottom of the pond and let himself float to the surface.
32
The first body was pulled from the water at four o'clock on Saturday morning. A call to the FBI had scrambled a dive and retrieval team who had arrived three hours after Curtis had grabbed the hand at the bottom of the pond.
The FBI team carried the desecrated body out of the water and laid it out on the large tarp. It was illuminated by spotlights which the FBI team had set up around the pond.
The body was unrecognizable, the skin rotting and peeling away. Only the hand Curtis had grabbed still looked alive. The clothes the girl had worn hung off her like rags. Her hair could have been brunette, blonde or red for all Curtis could see.
Curtis sat on a fold-up chair fifty feet away from the pond. He had a blanket wrapped around him and a cup of hot chocolate between his hands. His right hand was wrapped in thick, blood-stained bandages.
Jeff was standing nearby, explaining the situation to Frankie. Trevor moved around the site, coordinating with police and newly arrived FBI agents. Monica was still at the hospital with their father.
A pile of beer bottles retrieved by the FBI team sat beside the pond. Curtis wondered how many were he and Jeff’s, and who else had known about this place.
The searchers were shouting that they had a second body. Moments later, the second body was pulled out. It was in a worst state than the first, with no defining features remaining.
Frankie sighed and walked up to Curtis, leaving Jeff behind. “We’ll fingerprint the first one," she said. "There won’t be fingerprints for the others. Identifying them is going to be a challenge.”
“No kidding.”
Jeff walked up to them. He put a hand on Curtis’s shoulder. “Kelly’s coming.”
“This isn’t supposed to be public yet," said Curtis. "What about the other parents?”
“They’re coming, too.”
“Jesus Christ.” Curtis shook off the blanket, stood, and began pacing. “They can’t be all
owed to see their daughters yet.”
“They deserve to have closure.”
“And we don’t have it yet. We have two bodies.“
“Three.” Jeff pointed to a third body being hauled from the pond and placed on the tarp. It looked barely human.
“How did Kelly find out?”
“I think Officer Oberman told her," said Jeff. "Officer Hagerty might have done the same with his sister-in-law.”
“Damn.” Curtis rubbed his eyes. “Can you console Kelly? If anyone asks, the bodies will be available for viewing and identification at the medical examiner’s office first thing in the morning. Seven o’clock. Any questions?”
“I got it.” Jeff went to leave and then turned back. “Curtis?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks for trusting me. After all that happened between us, with Marino.”
Curtis shrugged. “You would have done the same for me.”
“No, I wouldn’t have," said Jeff.
“Don’t say that.”
“It was me, Curtis.”
Curtis turned towards him. “What?”
Jeff took a deep breath. “I’m the one who told Marino you ratted him out."
Curtis nodded, as though it made perfect sense, although his mind was reeling. “Marino knows what I did? Without any doubt in your mind?”
“He knows everything. I told him. I’m sorry.” Jeff turned to leave.
There was a screech of tires. Screaming erupted from the perimeter of the forest a few hundred yards away. Curtis had always found it morbidly interesting how distinct the cry of a mother was. No matter what the context, there was something about the desperation and fear that distinguished it from any other scream.
“I have to go,” said Jeff, sprinting toward the screaming.
Frankie approached Curtis, and he explained what had happened. She looked past him and sighed.
“And there's the fourth body," she said.
33
Curtis and Frankie tried and failed to sleep at the police station.
Curtis spent most of the time thinking about Marino. At least Jeff seemed to be on his side.
At half past six, they were handed cups of mild coffee.
Frankie and Trevor had spent a few hours the previous night interviewing Ken Hagerty, but they had failed to get anything important.
Ken had continued to claim everything he'd done was in the best interests of his daughter. His victim, Zach O’Reilly, had been put into a medically-induced coma while the doctors tried desperately to save his life. The charges against Ken depended on whether or not Zach pulled through.
Trevor had gone home, citing a need for sleep, and Monica had called in from the hospital to get the details. There had was no change in Gordon Mackley’s status.
The FBI divers had declared there was nothing else to be found in the pond and boarded the plane back Manhattan. The Blind River was still taped off and guarded by police officers.
Once the town began to wake up, there would be a frenzy to see the site and hear what had happened to the victims.
Curtis and Frankie were led to the Medical Examiner’s Office, where the bodies would be identified by family members. Curtis had dealt with these situations before, and he knew that the family members would be experiencing a strange mix of anguish that their loved ones were dead and relief that they finally had answers, even if they weren’t what they wanted.
The bodies were laid out on four tables side by side, sheets covering them from head to toe. The medical examiner was a red-haired woman who introduced herself as Dr. Marie Novak.
“So,” said Frankie, standing beside Dr. Novak. “What’s the report?”
“Not good,” said Dr. Novak. “I was unable to identify three of them. The only successful identification was Darcy Oberman. She’s the third body from the left. It was because of her height. The others are harder. I took prints from the first one pulled out of the water, but she isn’t in the system. Harriet Matheson is the only one of the four victims who has prints in the FBI database, so that only crosses her out as being the first body. I sent out DNA samples, but who knows how long that'll take. I’ll try to get some from the parents and see if I can get a match.”
Frankie nodded and turned to one of the officers with them. “Are the parents here yet? They can identify them.”
Dr. Novak frowned and glanced at the desecrated bodies. “They can’t—” She stopped talking when Frankie glared at her. “Of course."
Frankie turned and leaned out of the room. Curtis couldn't hear what she was saying to someone outside.
A few minutes later, an officer walked into the room with Kelly Oberman and Jeff Parker.
Matt Oberman followed a few steps behind, looking far more nervous than his mother about seeing and identifying his sisters body. Jeff had his arm draped around Kelly, who was holding her hands just below her eyes, ready to hide from the world at a moment’s notice. Her eyes were red, as though she’d run out of tears to cry.
“Ms. Oberman,” said Dr. Novak, pulling Kelly into a hug. “Thank you for coming in. I understand how hard this must be."
Kelly nodded.
“Where is she?” said Jeff, making eye contact with Curtis.
“Come with me,” said Dr. Novak, walking around the table to the body marked number three. She put her hands on either side of the sheet. “You need to be aware of what the body has been through. I've found no signs she died in any pain or suffering. The vast majority of what you’re about to see happened after death. Are you ready?”
All eyes turned to Kelly, who stared at the sheet below which her daughter’s body lay. She nodded almost imperceptibly. Dr. Novak reached under the back of the sheet and lifted it over the girl's head.
Kelly let out a long and loud cry mimicking the one she'd given at the edge of the forest a few hours earlier. From deep within her, she seemed to find more tears to cry. Jeff pulled her close, shielding her from the image of her daughter's decaying face, the skin missing from Darcy's right cheek. Curtis and Frankie stood back, letting the events unfold before them.
“I'm sorry for your loss,” said Dr. Novak, reaching out a hand and putting it on Kelly's shoulder.
“It’s her,” said Kelly without removing her face from Jeff’s shoulder. “It’s her. It’s Darcy. It’s my daughter.”
“Thank you," said Dr. Novak. "If there’s anything that I can help with—”
“No,” said Kelly. She looked up at Jeff. “Let’s go.”
Jeff hesitated for a moment, looking around to see if there was anything else to do. When Curtis shook his head, he moved out of the room with Kelly.
Officer Oberman stayed a few seconds longer, staring at his sister’s dead face, his expression blank, completely devoid of any emotion at all, then followed his mother and Jeff out of the room.
Curtis rubbed his eyes and indicated to the officer by the door to bring in the next family. If he had to choose one part of the job he could go without, it would be this. He could handle dead bodies. There was nothing left for them. The person they had once been was gone. The families, though, had to live with the misery, pain and absence of their loved ones.
The doors to the Medical Examiner’s Office opened and Kendra and Oscar Matheson entered. Oscar looked relatively sober, although whether that was because he wanted to look respectable or because it was too early in the morning to be drunk Curtis couldn’t tell.
Oscar trailed a few feet behind his eldest daughter. They both came to a stop at the bottom of the tables where the bodies were laid out.
“Where’s my daughter?” said Oscar, monotone.
Dr. Novak stepped forward. “That’s why we invited you here. It’s very important that you remain calm and understand this is a very delicate situation.”
“What are you talking about?" said Oscar. "Just show me my daughter body and get it over with.”
Kendra glanced at her father.
“That’s the issue,” said Dr. Novak, looking
uncomfortable. Curtis guessed this was a first for her as well. “We don’t know which body is Harriet's.”
“What?” said Kendra.
“We’ve only identified one body. Number three is Darcy Oberman. The other three are beyond recognition.”
“What?” said Oscar, looking as though he wanted to vomit. “Are you serious? You mean she might not be here? She might still be out there with some madman?”
“Mr. Matheson," said Dr. Novak, "we're very confident we have the bodies of four kidnapped girls. We'll be taking DNA samples from you and the other families to guarantee it.”
Oscar seemed unable to speak, so Kendra said, “What do you need us to do?”
“If you feel up to it,” said Dr. Novak, “We want you to look at the three unidentified bodies, and tell us which one you think is Harriet.”
Oscar put his hand over his mouth and clenched his eyes shut.
“We’ll do what we can,” said Kendra, swallowing but mostly hiding her fear.
Slowly, Dr. Novak removed the sheets from the heads of the three unidentified bodies, and showed them to the Matheson’s.
Dr. Novak handed Oscar a barf bag from beside the sink. He dry-heaved into the bag for a few moments, then looked up and nodded, his face white. He kept the bag at chest level.
Kendra moved around the table, looking at the desecrated faces of the three girls. “This one,” she said, pointing to the body on the far left.
“Are you sure?” said Dr. Novak. “How can you tell?”
“I just know.” Kendra went to touch the rotting nose, then pulled her hand back. “It’s her.”
All eyes turned to Oscar, still holding the barf bag close, who nodded. “It’s her. I’d recognize my little girl anywhere.”
“Thank you,” said Curtis, stepping forward and putting a hand on Oscar’s shoulder. “I’m sure you’ll want to make arrangements. Harriet’s body will be released as soon as Dr. Novak is done and we've learned everything we can to find her killer.”
“Thank you,” said Oscar, wringing his hands as he was led out of the room by his only remaining daughter. Curtis wondered how long it would be until Oscar was wasted.