Between Octobers

The Meeting

Evan—The Meeting

My wife is practically inhuman, they say. She showed impossible skill, if the secondary crime scene they've been surveying tells the story they think it does.

The detectives and John are all kind, personable, and sympathetic. I want to rip them all apart.

John's wearing his jacket this time, buttoning and unbuttoning as they relay the findings. I want to tell them to stop talking, I've heard enough. But Ronnie seems very interested in every detail. He's absorbed, almost disconnected, as he listens to what they know so far and asks more questions.

The baby was one to two hours old when they found him. He was lying on top of her. She was in the open hatch of her Cherokee, without dignity. They found, surrounding her inside the car, her pants and shoes, items of a first-aid kit she kept. They say she must have gone into labor on her way back to the car.

"What do you mean 'back'?" Ronnie asks.

John looks to me, asking without words if I explained anything. I shake my head. So, he goes back to finding out the trunk was missing. It was found, empty, about ten yards from the back side of Grace's car. There was also a shovel and a very large hole. Their best guess thus far is that the body in the canyon must have something to do with Grace being there, but none can say for sure until it's been identified, which might prove difficult since animals have already gotten to it.

From what they've pieced together, she was taken from the house, possibly the kitchen. That's where the cordless phone was found, atop the island counter. Pieces of the broken coffee carafe had been swept into the trash. She was placed inside a tarp, smashed into that trunk and taken far, far away to a place where no one would ever think to look for her. Kings Canyon. The irony sickens me.

She found a way out of the trunk, or was let out and got away. They believe she had to have hid somewhere, or been chased and found her way back to the car, where Baby was born.

"She wanted to name him Ethan. Or Daniel," Ronnie says, wiping his eyes. He turns to me, "I want to see him."

There are still a lot of unanswered questions, the main being why do GPS coordinates for Sheri's car show the location three blocks from the security gate at the bottom of Grace's hill?

The lead detective, whose name I don't care about at the moment, clears his throat. "A search of the vehicle produced several items that lead us to believe that your former manager may be involved."

John sets a hand on my shoulder. "They found a receipt for a shovel. The UPC numbers match those of the shovel at the scene. And a binder full of research from websites on suicides."

"Sheri? That doesn't make sense. No. Why?"

"Mr. Matthews, is it true that Sheri Barry used to work for you?"

"Yes."

"What were your reasons for dismissal?"

"Confidentially, we suspect she paid someone to film intimate moments between my client and his wife, then sell and distribute the material." Eric's voice sounds from somewhere behind me. "He's in the process of suing her." His hand appears near my shoulder, holding out several business cards. His and my lawyer's.

I ask to be excused, which they kindly grant.

Turning to leave the Bad News room adjacent to the lobby, I look to John. "If I see any press upstairs, everyone's fired."