Brian Freeman - The Burying Place

As she drove, she thought about Stride. She'd stood at the foot of the bed this morning and watched him while he slept. Wherever he was, it was a million miles away from her. He'd been walking away, retreating, escaping, for weeks, until they were strangers again. They'd drifted apart as easily as they had come together. What made her angry was that she had let it happen without fighting back. She'd watched him go rather than confront the hurt she felt. If that was what he wanted, if that was how it was going to be, then she would protect herself and pretend she had known it would happen this way all along.

Maybe she had. Maybe they'd both been kidding themselves. There had always been fault lines, little hairline cracks that seemed like nothing until the weight of pressure and time burst them open. She knew it happened that way, and there was no one to blame. Things are fine until suddenly, unexpectedly, they are not fine at all anymore, and both of you know it, and neither one of you wants to admit it.

Her phone rang. It was him. The man she loved.

'You didn't wake me up this morning,' he told her.

Serena wiped her eyes and squelched the anguish she felt when she heard his voice. 'I'm sorry. You haven't slept much lately, and I thought you could use the rest.'

'You're right. Thanks.' He added, 'You sound strange. Is everything OK?'

'Sure,' she said.

It was easier to lie. It was safer to pretend. Things are fine, Jonny, but we both know they're not. She heard him hesitate, as if he might push her for the truth, but she knew he wouldn't do that.

'What's the latest on the search?' he asked.

He was a colleague talking to a colleague. Serena heard a noise in her head, and she thought it was a fault line, a crack, a fracture, splintering apart and growing wide.

'We've gone through the guest lists from motels around Grand Rapids,' she reported to him in a flat voice. 'We're still doing follow-up, but there aren't any red flags. The Highway Patrol has been hitting gas stations with Callie's photo. We've got leads, but nothing hot.'

'What about cameras on the roads in and out of town?'

'We found a couple ATM cameras that face toward 169 and Highway 2. Between the fog and the video quality, there's not much to see. I sent them to the BCA to see if they could do a digital enhancement.'

'I think we need to drag Pokegama Lake,' Stride said.

Serena pulled her Mustang on to the shoulder of the highway. She switched off the motor and listened to the silence. 'That'll kill Valerie Glenn.'

'I'm hoping we don't find anything, but if we wait too much longer, we'll lose the lake to ice.'

'Give it a few more days.'

'Yeah, OK, but I'm not feeling good about this.' He added, 'If it was an abduction for money, we'd have heard from the kidnappers by now.'

'I know.'

'I keep coming back to Marcus Glenn,' Stride told her. 'I don't want the reporters getting wind of it, but I think we should ask him to take a polygraph. He's already lied to us about Micki Vega. Who knows what else he's hiding?'

'He'll lawyer up and stop talking,' Serena said.

'That tells us something.'

'I don't know. I don't like Glenn either, but I'm not sure I see him as violent or depraved.'

'See what you can find out at the hospital,' Stride said.

'I will.'

When there was nothing left to say, the dead air between them stretched out and grew awkward. Serena stared across the highway at a wasted barn, its roof open to the elements in jagged holes where the beams had collapsed. Blackbirds flew from inside. The grass grew long and wavy around the bowing walls.

'Hey, Jonny?' she murmured.

'Yes?'

'We're not so good, are we?'

She couldn't believe she had said it aloud. That was all it took to quit pretending. Now they were on dangerous ground.

Stride waited a long time, and then he said, 'It's me.'

'No, it's not just you,' she told him.

Two hours later, Serena walked along Superior Street in downtown Duluth with a nurse from St Mary's Hospital named Ellen Warner. At Lake Avenue, the two of them crossed the street and found a bench protected from the wind. It was too cold to be outside comfortably, but Ellen had insisted that they talk where there was no risk of being overheard. Few people at St Mary's were anxious to talk about Marcus Glenn.

Ellen opened a white takeaway bag and pulled out a hot dog from the Coney Island restaurant up the street. She unwrapped the foil and took a large bite. A drop of mustard stuck to her lips.

'I appreciate your meeting me,' Serena told her.

'Well, keep it under wraps, OK?' Ellen said, wiping her mouth. 'Dr Glenn is prickly. If a nurse gets on his bad side, she's gone.'

Ellen was dressed in purple scrubs with a jean jacket over the top. Her sneakers were neon white. She was in her early fifties with short silver hair and a squat, heavy physique.

'How long have you worked with him?' Serena asked.

'Must be almost ten years,' she replied. 'I have to tell you, he's good. Make that great. The man's ego wouldn't fit in a football stadium, but he's a wizard in the OR. Good with patients, too. You wouldn't think it, because he's a titanic pain in the ass to everyone else. But he can switch it on with patients, and they love him. I've never understood people who can compartmentalize their lives like that, but with Dr Glenn, you have to overlook his personality and respect his talent.'

'Do you know his wife, Valerie?'

'Enough to say hello. She comes in every now and then.'

Ellen finished her hot dog, crumpled the wrapper, and put it back in the bag. She reached into the hip pocket of her scrubs and removed a pack of cigarettes. She lit one and noticed the surprise on Serena's face. 'It's the stress. I know it's stupid, but that doesn’t stop me.'

'What's the relationship like between Dr Glenn and his wife?' Serena asked.

'Strained,' Ellen said.

'How so? Do they fight?'

'No fights, at least not at the hospital. They're distant. She tries to get inside his head, but he doesn’t want anyone else in there.'

'Do you know their daughter Callie?'

'Sure, Mrs Glenn brings her in sometimes. Cute girl.'

'What's Dr Glenn like as a father?'

Ellen blew out a cloud of smoke and regarded Serena coolly. 'You mean, would he do something to Callie? No, I don't believe that. If Marcus Glenn is one thing in this world, he's a doctor. He'd never harm another human being.'

'That's not what I asked.'

'Well, that's what everyone's saying. Would I call him a loving, doting father? No. He's not going to get down on the floor and play games or make baby talk with a stupid grin on his face. That's not who he is. But a monster? I don't think so. Although you'd probably find people in the hospital who disagree with me.'

'Is there anyone who hates him enough to want to harm him? Or his family?'

Ellen's brow furrowed. 'That's a difficult question. A lot of people dislike him because he's a perfectionist. He has no patience for mistakes. But would someone hurt him by taking his daughter? That's hard to imagine.'

'You said nurses have been fired because of him.'

'Yes, that's true.' is there anyone who would hold a grudge?'

Ellen shrugged. 'Most were reassigned elsewhere. A couple wanted to get out of nursing anyway. It chews people up.'

'What about the personal side?' Serena asked. 'I've heard rumors about Glenn having affairs with women on the hospital staff.'

Ellen cocked her head and stubbed out her cigarette on the concrete of the bench. She brushed ash on to the pavement. 'Yes, Marcus has a weakness for pretty young things. In his defense, nurses join the staff, and they see a tall, rich, handsome surgeon, and they make a play for him. It's not like he's going to leave Valerie for any of them.'