Brian Freeman - The Burying Place

'What did he do?'

'He knew I couldn't go to a hospital, so he arranged for a nurse to come here. She was supposed to deliver the baby, too, but I never made it that far.'

'How far along were you when you lost him?'

'Three months,' Micki said. 'It was just one of those things. I didn't do anything wrong.'

'When was this?'

'Last summer. August.'

'So Valerie Glenn was already pregnant when you miscarried?'

'How should I know? I mean, I guess she was, but I didn't know. Dr Glenn never talked about his wife having a baby.'

'What did you do with your child?' Stride asked.

Micki's eyes flashed. 'I buried him.'

'What about the nurse? What was her name?'

'Nurse Regan. She was a scary bitch to look at, but she was nice. Even after I lost the baby, she came back to help me. My head was all screwed up, and she told me it's normal to feel that way.'

'Did you know that she was having an affair with Dr Glenn?' Stride asked.

Micki looked genuinely shocked. 'Dr Glenn and Nurse Regan? No, I didn't know that.'

'Did you ever see them together?'

'Sure, a couple of times, he drove her here to see me. That doesn’t mean anything.'

'Has Regan Conrad been in touch with you recently?'

'Me? No. Why would she?'

Stride didn't hear a lie in her voice. 'I'm sorry, Micki, that must have been a terrible experience for you.'

She shrugged. 'I was upset, but God calls the shots, not me.'

'Where did you bury your son?' he asked.

'On the other side of the road,' she said after a long pause. 'It happens a lot around cemeteries, you know. My mama and I hear noises out here at night, and I'll find places where the dirt's been dug up.'

'People bury things in the woods?' Stride asked.

'Yeah. Sure. I keep a collection of things I find out there. Photos of pets. Silly stuff like rings and corks from wine bottles. I think it makes people feel better to bury something near the cemetery. Like they figure God is nearby. If you dig in the trees, I bet you'd find a lot of bones.'

Serena found Valerie Glenn at her sister's home on Sunday afternoon. Denise Sheridan and her husband lived in downtown Grand Rapids, on a forested lot near the river. It was a small home for a family with four children. Its wood siding was dirty and needed paint, and several of the red roof shingles were missing. A fishing boat sat on a rusted trailer by the side of the house, and the yard was strewn with old toys. Half a dozen mature pines dwarfed the house and blocked it from the street.

Denise answered the door. Her face was pinched and impatient. When she saw Serena, she jerked a thumb down the hallway behind her. 'Valerie and Tom are in the living room. I've got to check on my youngest.' She lowered her voice and added, 'Do you have anything new?'

Serena shook her head.

Denise frowned and went upstairs, where Serena could hear the squeal of children. She found her way to the living room, which was a boxy space, crowded with old furniture. An upright piano was pushed against one wall, with stacks of sheet music piled on the bench. A little boy, no more than five years old, sat on the floor, humming as he pushed a red crayon around an illustration of a cow in a coloring book. The house smelled of burnt toast.

Valerie Glenn sat on the leather sofa, looking luminously out of place. Her clothes, her make-up, her hair, were all perfect. By contrast, the leather where she rested her slim arm was worn, with cuts and punctures bruising the surface. She had a sad, far-away smile as she watched the boy playing on the floor at her feet.

A man sat next to Valerie and held her hand. He was about forty years old, with gray strands lining his brown hair and a neatly trimmed beard. He wasn't heavy, but he had the stocky shoulders and slight beer gut of a typical Grand Rapids outdoorsman. His jeans had a frayed hole in the pocket, and the sleeves of his sweatshirt were rolled up past his elbows.

'Oh, hello, Serena,' Valerie murmured, looking up as she saw her in the doorway. 'Have you met Tom Sheridan?'

'I haven't.'

Tom got up from the sofa. He was a big man, but his handshake was gentle. 'I'm Denise's husband.'

'And who's this?' Serena asked, squatting down in front of the boy on the floor.

'This is Evan,' Tom said. 'Evan, can you say hello?'

The boy didn't look up from his work on the coloring book. 'Hello.'

Serena laughed and straightened up. 'You have a budding artist,' she said.

'I just wish he didn't practice on the bedroom walls,' Tom replied. He sat down again and put a comforting arm around Valerie's shoulder. With a glance at his sister-in-law, he said to Serena, 'I hate to be the bad guy here, but we're getting frustrated.'

'I understand. So are we.'

'How could Callie just vanish into thin air?' Tom asked.

'Believe me, we're doing everything we can to find her,' Serena said.

'I know the drill, Ms Dial. I'm married to the law. I know you can't snap your fingers and get answers for us. But I'd be lying if I didn't tell you how worried and impatient we all are. Every day makes Callie feel further away.'

Valerie glanced at the television in the corner of the room. The sound was low. 'Is there anything you can do about the media?' she asked. 'I know it's free speech and all, but I feel like they're trying to destroy our family. Did you see Blair Rowe last night? She was spreading all these lies about Marcus. Who's going to look for Callie if they think that my husband is a monster?'

'The best advice I can give you is not to watch,' Serena said. 'Even if it's garbage and gossip, it helps having Callie's photo on the news night after night. The more people who see it, the more likely we are to find her.'

'She's right, Valerie,' Denise said, strolling into the living room behind Serena. She moved a stack of children's books from the cushion of a recliner and dropped into the chair with a groan. She chewed a fingernail and contemplated her sister. 'I know Blair Rowe. She's a wet-behind-the-ears brat who thinks this is her big break. Forget about her.'

Tom Sheridan looked at his wife with concern. 'How's Maureen?'

Denise shrugged. 'Fine.'

'Our youngest has Down's syndrome,' Tom explained. 'She doesn’t hear well, and she becomes quite agitated if she wakes up from a nap and one of us isn't around.'

'You don't need to share our life story,' Denise snapped.

'It's nothing to be ashamed about,' Tom said.

Denise's eyes shot daggers at her husband. 'Did I say I was ashamed?' She bent over and closed her son's coloring book. 'Evan, can you take this to your room, please? Thank you.'

There was silence among the adults in the room while the boy gathered his crayons and headed upstairs. Denise watched him go, her arms folded over her chest. 'Honestly, Tom, what are you thinking? Talking like that in front of the kids.'

'I'm sorry.'

Denise didn't reply.

'Maureen's condition has been a struggle for us,' Tom continued, with an apologetic smile at Serena. 'As if four kids weren't enough of a challenge to begin with.'

'Oh, for God's sake,' Denise barked. She flew out of the recliner and stomped through the swinging doors that led to the kitchen. The doors flapped madly before slowing down. Serena heard the clatter of pans and the exaggerated noise of cupboard doors opening and closing.

'I'm really sorry about this,' Tom told her. 'Bad day.'

'Don't worry about it.'

Valerie stood up. 'I suppose you'd like to talk to me.'

'Yes, I would.'

She nodded and bent down to hug her brother-in-law. 'Thanks for everything, Tom. Really.'

Tom held on to her hand. 'Call if you need anything at all, OK?'

'I will,' Valerie said. She said to Serena, 'Shall we take a walk?'