The Burying Place

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The Burying Place Page 13

by Brian Freeman


  Even after three months, it didn't feel like her office. It would always be Stride's. She'd left his photographs on the bureau as a reminder that he was coming back. Standing under the harsh fluorescent light, she picked up each of the frames, which gave her a tour of his life. She saw Stride and Cindy, ten years younger, before the cancer stole her away. Maggie had liked Cindy a lot. Those were the old days, when Maggie was a kid, a Chinese immigrant slowly shedding her starchy upbringing and awakening to a new personality. Cindy had known all about Maggie's crush on Stride, but she had never shown even a glimmer of jealousy. Maggie wondered how Cindy would have felt about her slipping into Stride's bed six months after she died, only to be rejected by a man who didn't want to hurt her.

  Maggie picked up the next picture, which was of Stride and Serena in Las Vegas, then just as quickly put it down, rather than stare at the two of them. The last picture on the bureau was of herself. She was on the beach behind Stride's cottage, her sunglasses pushed to the end of her bottle-cap nose, her bowl haircut windblown by the lake, her grin lopsided and sarcastic. She thought it was a terrible picture, but Stride had refused to let her replace it. He had taken it himself.

  She sat down and propped her heels on the desk. Guppo had prepared his typically thorough report of the crime scene forensics near the Lester River, and she reread it, looking for details she had previously missed. Some connection among the victims. Some strange motive in the man's actions that night. She read it twice without finding anything, and the words blurred on the page.

  'Knock knock,' someone said, startling her.

  Maggie looked up. The husky frame of Troy Grange filled her doorway.

  'Oh, hi, Troy,' she said.

  'Is this a bad time?'

  'No, come on in.'

  The rest of the Detective Bureau was dark behind him. Troy, like Maggie, was an early riser. He sat in the chair in front of her desk, and the overhead light bounced off his bald head like a sunbeam.

  'What's going on?' she asked.

  'Well, first, I wanted to thank you for coming to the house on Saturday. You and Kasey both. I really appreciate it.'

  'I just wish I had better news for you. I'm sorry.'

  'I know. I'm due back at work today, but I'm still in a fog.'

  'Take more time,' Maggie suggested. 'The director of the port will understand. I can have the chief call him.'

  'It will probably do me good to work again,' he said.

  'How's Debbie?' Maggie asked. 'Poor kid, this must be hitting her hard.'

  'It's hard now, but it'll be worse later. I hate the idea of her growing up without her mother. I'm a guy. What the hell do I know about raising girls?'

  'You'll do fine, Troy,' Maggie told him, smiling. 'But I know it's not what you planned.'

  'No, I never signed up to be a single parent, that's for sure.'

  'Was there something else you needed?' Maggie asked.

  'Yes, but this isn't about Trisha,' Troy said. 'It may be nothing.'

  'What is it?'

  'I got a call late last night from a secretary in my office. She was pretty upset.'

  'What happened?' Maggie asked.

  'Well, she's dating a guy named Nick Garaldo. I know him. He's a young kid, twenty-something, a wiry little squirt. He works on one of the tugboats in the harbor. Solid and reliable, from everything I've heard about him.' 'OK.'

  'He's missing,' Troy said.

  'Oh? For how long?'

  'That's the thing. It's just a day. This gal who called me, she talked to him on Saturday morning. They were supposed to meet for coffee at Amazing Grace on Sunday. He never turned up. He doesn’t answer his cell phone, and he doesn’t answer his landline. She went to his apartment, but nobody answers the door. He also had a five a.m. shift in the harbor this morning, and he's a no-show.'

  Maggie frowned. 'It's too early to declare him a missing person.'

  'Yeah, I know. I told her I'd report it and see what you can do. She swears this is not like him at all, and his boss says the same thing. He's never missed a shift without calling.'

  'Where does he live?'

  'He's got an apartment in the Central Hillside area downtown.'

  'People pick up and move sometimes,' Maggie said. 'Especially from that area.'

  'Sure they do. There's probably nothing to worry about, and he'll turn up tomorrow with a hangover. Or he'll call from South Padre Island or something. But his girlfriend was pretty upset.'

  'Of course. What's his address?'

  Troy recited the location of Nick's apartment on Fourth Street and Lake. It was one of the tough areas of downtown, a haven for drug dealers.

  'I'll have someone check it out,' Maggie told him.

  'I appreciate it.'

  'In the meantime, if you need anything, just call me.'

  'I will.'

  Troy squeezed out of the chair, and they shook hands. She listened to his heavy footsteps walking away, and she heard the outer door of the Detective Bureau open and close. She was alone again.

  Alone with a dead woman near the Lester River and three other women missing and presumed dead.

  Alone with the photographs on Stride's bureau.

  * * *

  Chapter Twenty

  In the morning, they pretended as if nothing had happened between them.

  They got up, showered, made coffee, shared their notes on the case, and acted as if the elephant in the room was invisible. On some level, Stride knew it was the worst thing they could possibly do, but that was who they were. They each retreated to their corners and nursed their wounds.

  They drove slowly into Grand Rapids because of the snow. The driveway at the Glenn house was white and pristine, and behind the house, the lake was deep blue under the sunshine. Valerie Glenn answered the door. He didn't need to ask if she'd seen the morning news and the Vegas interview with Lavender. Her blue eyes were furious. She led them into the warm sunroom at the back of the house, and she sat in a wicker chair near the windows and stared at the snow-covered lawn leading down to the water.

  'It might be better if you weren't here for this,' Serena told her. 'There may be things that Marcus won't tell us with you in the room.'

  Valerie laughed humorlessly. 'Do you really think he'll spare my feelings? We're a little late for that.'

  Stride had spent less time with Valerie than Serena had, but even no, he could see the change in her. She was a woman who didn't need make-up to be beautiful, but this morning she hadn't bothered to attend to her face. She wore a loose sweatshirt from the local country club, old jeans, and white athletic socks. He wondered if it was a silent message to her husband: I'm not your trophy today.

  Stride saw Marcus Glenn in the doorway of the sunroom. There was no eye contact between him and Valerie as the surgeon sat down on the sofa on the other side of the room. His long legs jutted out like stilts over the end of the cushions.

  'Good morning, detectives,' he said. 'I hope this won't take long. I've already had to cancel two surgeries today in order to be here.'

  'We have some things we'd like to go over with you,' Stride said.

  'Do I need a lawyer?'

  'I don't know. Have you done anything that would make you need a lawyer?'

  Glenn glanced at his wife. 'A divorce lawyer, perhaps.' He added, 'That's a joke, Valerie.'

  Valerie didn't acknowledge him.

  'Dr Glenn, there was an interview on television this morning with a woman in Las Vegas who claims to have had a relationship with you,' Stride said. 'Are you acquainted with this woman?'

  'Yes.'

  'Did you have a sexual relationship with her?' Serena asked.

  'I don't see what that has to do with anything.'

  'Answer the question!' Valerie snapped from the other side of the room.

  For the first time, Glenn flinched. 'Yes, all right, I did. Intensely sexual. Is that what you want to hear, Valerie? As long as we're sharing family secrets, maybe you'd like the detectives to know that w
e haven't had sex since Callie was born. The gates to the magic forest have been kept tightly locked while you manage all of your issues. Well, forgive me for not being satisfied with a celibate lifestyle.'

  'You bastard,' Valerie murmured.

  'This woman says you told her you wished that your daughter had never been born,' Serena said. 'Is that true? Did you make that statement?'

  He shook his head. 'No.'

  'So she's lying?' Stride asked.

  'She's misremembering. I probably made some comment that my life was easier before Callie was born. Most people feel that way when a child comes into their lives.'

  'The reporter specifically asked if you used the words "never been born". She says you did.'

  'And as I told you, she's wrong.'

  'You never said it?' Stride asked.

  'No.'

  'Is that how you feel?' Serena interrupted.

  'What do you mean?'

  'Well, regardless of whether you said it, do you believe you would be happier if Callie had never been born?'

  'No. That's ridiculous.'

  'Your credibility has taken some hits, doctor,' Stride told him. 'You lied to us about Migdalia Vega. You told us you were alone in the house the night Callie disappeared. We know that's not true. Exactly why didn't you tell us about her?'

  'I think you know why. I didn't want Micki to get in trouble. She's an illegal, and she was afraid she'd be deported. Or worse yet, she'd be branded a suspect. She didn't know what happened, so she couldn't add anything to your investigation.'

  'Was she with you in your bedroom that night?' Stride asked.

  'No, she was in the guest room over the garage on the other side of the hall.'

  'You told us you were asleep by ten thirty,' Serena said.

  'That's right.'

  'So you don't know where Migdalia was or what she was doing during that time until you discovered Callie was missing.'

  Marcus hesitated. 'I suppose not, but it's insane to think—'

  'Do you think there could be any connection between Callie's disappearance and Migdalia losing her baby last year?' Stride asked, cutting him off.

  'What? No, certainly not.'

  'Were you the father of her child?'

  Marcus leaned back and folded his arms over his chest.

  Absolutely not.'

  'Have you ever slept with her?'

  'No.'

  'What about Regan Conrad?' Serena asked.

  Marcus turned his head sharply at the mention of Regan's name. 'Excuse me?'

  'You heard me,' Serena said.

  'Yes. All right. I had - past tense - a relationship with Regan Conrad.' He turned to Valerie. 'I broke it off. I told you that months ago.'

  Valerie didn't reply.

  'When did you sever your relationship with Ms Conrad?' Stride asked.

  'This winter.'

  'After Callie was born?'

  'Yes.'

  'Why did you choose to end it?'

  'My wife knew about my affair,' he said, with another glance at Valerie. 'With Callie born, she wanted it over. I agreed.'

  'I was told that you were concerned about Regan Conrad's behavior,' Serena said. 'You told people she was crazy. Crazy in what way?'

  'Regan is extreme. She's manipulative. She tries to get you to do what she wants, and she's very good at it. I kept it going longer than I should have because of that.'

  'How did she take it when you broke it off?' Stride asked.

  'Not well,' Glenn said.

  'How so?'

  'She hit me in the face and tried to break my fingers. She wanted me to divorce Valerie and marry her. Obviously, those were delusions. Nothing like that was going to happen.'

  'Has she ever been in your house?' Serena asked.

  He exhaled and looked unhappy. 'Several times.'

  'So she knows the layout of your house?'

  'I suppose she does.'

  'Did you ever give her a key?'

  'I may have loaned her a spare key once.'

  'Did you get it back?'

  'I honestly don't remember,' he replied, hesitating. 'I don't think I did. But this is all academic, detectives. Regan was working the night Callie disappeared. Believe me, I checked.'

  'You did?' Stride asked. 'Why?'

  'I told you. She's erratic. Violent.'

  'Why didn't you tell us about her if you thought she could be involved in kidnapping your daughter?'

  'Do I have to explain it? Look at what's happened to my life in the past four days. I've been excoriated in the press and subjected to humiliating questions by you in front of my wife. I was trying to avoid all of this.'

  'Did Regan Conrad ever make any threats regarding you, your wife, or your baby?' Serena asked.

  'Not explicitly, no.'

  'But there were implied threats?'

  'She's vengeful and clever. Anything is possible with her. She's even been arrested a few times.'

  'Arrested? For what?' Serena asked.

  'I don't know. The charges were dropped. She referred to it once in passing.'

  'How well did Regan know Micki Vega?' Stride asked.

  'They were close,' Glenn said. 'Regan may be unstable, but she's a brilliant nurse. I've seen her with new mothers. She becomes their lifeline. The bond between mother and midwife is exceptionally strong during and after the birth of a child, particularly when there are problems.'

  'Problems?'

  'Difficult labor. Post-partum depression. Things like that. And obviously, in Micki's case, losing a baby.'

  'Could Regan have manipulated Micki into helping her kidnap Callie?'

  Glenn thought about it and shook his head. 'I really don't think so. Not Micki. She's too loyal to me. Besides, kidnapping a baby? That's a heinous thing to do. Micki would never be involved in anything like that.'

  Stride looked at Serena, who nodded.

  'Dr Glenn, let's be very clear about this. Did you in any way harm your baby?' 'No. Absolutely not.'

  'Were you in any way involved in her disappearance? Either taking her from the house or helping someone else to do so?'

  'No.'

  'Do you know what happened to her?'

  Marcus stood up. 'No. I can't be any clearer than that. I was not involved in Callie's disappearance in any way whatsoever. You're wasting your time listening to the nonsense spread by Blair Rowe and the rest of the media. I know it makes good television to paint me as some kind of devil, but the fact is, I'm innocent. The best thing you can do is stop harassing me and do your jobs. Find out what happened to her.'

  He turned to walk from the sunroom, but Serena interrupted him. 'We can clear this up once and for all, Dr Glenn. We'd like you to take a polygraph test.'

  Marcus looked at her with suspicion. 'A polygraph?'

  'Yes.'

  'Polygraph tests are notoriously inaccurate and inadmissible in court, isn't that right?'

  'The test helps us cross people off the list,' Serena explained. 'When you pass, we'll know that we should be focusing our investigation elsewhere. Otherwise, a cloud of suspicion will linger over you, particularly given the omissions in your statements to us.'

  Valerie leaned forward. 'I think you should do it, Marcus. We both should. Let them clear us, so they can figure out who really did this.'

  'Oh, so you think I'm involved too?' he retorted. He shook his head firmly. 'Sorry. No. I won't do that. Certainly not without consulting an attorney.'

  'Marcus,' Valerie gasped.

  'I said no. It doesn’t mean I had anything to do with this, but innocent people wind up in legal jeopardy all too often. I'm sorry.'

  Marcus Glenn shoved his hands in his pockets and stalked from the room.

  * * *

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Valerie had known Marcus Glenn long before they ever met.

  She remembered the big celebration in the high school gymnasium when she was ten years old. Her sister Denise and Denise's boyfriend, Tom, had taken Valerie with the
m to the city-wide party in honor of Grand Rapids bringing home the high school hockey championship for the second year in a row. Marcus Glenn was the star. The most valuable player. The tall teenager with the black hair and the reluctant smile. Valerie had watched him in his hockey jersey with the kind of crush she had previously reserved for singers on MTV. It didn't matter that Denise made snarky comments to Tom under her breath about Marcus thinking he was king of the world. Right then and there, Valerie remembered staring at him and thinking: I'm going to marry him.

  It was only a juvenile fantasy. She never took it seriously, not until a dozen years later, when she was the hostess at the Sugar Lake Lodge restaurant. Marcus Glenn walked in with three other men, and Valerie may as well have been ten years old again when she saw him. He wore a perfectly tailored black suit and a hint of cologne; he was taller than anyone else around him; and he was talking in casual tones about the PGA star who had just won the Phoenix Open, a year after Marcus had done knee surgery on the man.

  Marcus Glenn was back home in Grand Rapids. Young, wealthy, unmarried, a surgeon with gifted hands.

  She remembered how their eyes had met. How his stare lingered on her face. She knew she was beautiful - plenty of men had gone after her over the years - but it still gave her a thrill to realize that he was interested in her. Of all the women in Grand Rapids who would have thrown themselves at him and his Lexus, she was the one he wanted.

  He asked her out that night. She knew about the rumors: Marcus went from one girl to the next, sleeping with them and moving on. He wasn't ready to settle down. So she was surprised when he didn't invite her to a romantic dinner for two, but instead invited her to accompany him to a cocktail party thrown by members of the hospital board. He bought her a stunning dress. Kept her on his arm the whole night. Kissed her cheek when he dropped her off at her apartment.

 

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