The Last Day of Emily Lindsey

by Nic Joseph

  We stepped through the trees and branches, and I was overcome with a sense of déjà vu from my experience the previous day.

  “Steven?”

  I looked up at Gayla. “Let’s head back to the search team,” I said. “There’s nothing out here.”

  We began to walk away from the lake and back toward the main road. As we walked along, we came across a few members of the search team, and I could hear the sound of a dog barking in the distance. We didn’t know what we were looking for. The car. Some signs of why she’d been out there.

  And of course, any further signs of Ryan Griggs.

  I saw a woman walking up to me, and I sighed when I saw that it was Eleanor Griggs. She was dressed in a bright-pink terry cloth jumpsuit, and she wore a pair of expensive-looking sunglasses. She was clutching her purse to her side, a huge, black leather bag with short handles, no strap.

  “Nice purse to bring out on a search party for your missing husband,” Gayla whispered.

  Eleanor was standing with a man who it took me a second to recognize. Philip Jameson, the Kelium executive. He was dressed more reasonably, in jeans and a polo shirt, but somehow, he still seemed out of place.

  “Why are they always together?” Gayla whispered. “Think something’s going on there?”

  “I don’t know,” I said as we came within earshot.

  “Thanks for coming,” Gayla said, changing her tone, her gaze darting to me before she turned back to the pair. “But it might be a good idea if you are home in case your husband returns. We have some great teams out here searching the area, and they’re very capable.”

  The woman nodded. “I don’t doubt it. That’s not why I’m here. I couldn’t just do nothing. I can’t stand to just sit at home,” she said. “I was going insane. The least I can do is come out here to help.”

  “Do you have your cell phone with you?” Gayla asked. “In case your husband calls?”

  “Of course I do,” she said.

  I looked over at Jameson. He was standing next to Eleanor, his hands in his pockets, his face ghostly white, his entire body shaking.

  “Are you all right?” I asked.

  He looked at me and blinked a few times, and I could tell that he was far from all right. But after a moment, he looked over at Eleanor and nodded.

  I took a glance at Gayla, who was watching them both with a frown on her face. It was clear that there was more between the two of them than they were admitting to, but the question was, how much more?

  And did that have anything to do with Griggses’ disappearance?

  Jameson cleared his throat. “Are you sure the blood couldn’t have come from something else?” he asked, his voice breathy, and I could tell that being out here in the woods looking for his partner was the last place he wanted to be. “Maybe it was animal blood or something. Not that it wouldn’t be cause for question, but maybe it wasn’t a person.”

  “No, it was from a human,” I said slowly, trying to read him. We locked eyes, and he looked away. He was definitely shaken up, and I couldn’t tell if it was just the circumstances around why we were all out there or something more.

  We were turning to walk away when, suddenly, the barking got louder.

  The sound of the dogs had been there before, a background noise that reminded us about the morbid truth of our search. But the dogs’ sudden increase in volume stopped us all in our tracks.

  It was a jarring, ominous sound out there in the woods, and everyone froze. My body jolted, and I could see an expression of dread descend on the faces of the people standing in front of me. My eyes darted from Jameson’s face, to Eleanor Griggs’s, and finally Gayla’s.

  Gayla didn’t get easily rattled, but her eyes had widened, and her lips were parted slightly as we all listened to the dogs barking loudly, anxiously.

  They’d found something.

  We all took off at the same time, racing through the trees toward the noise. I was pulled back to the previous day when I’d followed the man in the tan suit, but this was different. The sound of the dogs barking was crystal clear, and more important, there were other people around to hear them.

  No question about it—this was real.

  I felt short of breath, but I kept going, just an inch or so off Gayla’s heels. I could hear Eleanor and Philip scrambling behind me. We came into a small clearing where a crowd of people had formed. We were only about ten feet or so from where we’d parked our cars, close to the main road.

  The small group stood in a circle, and they were all leaning forward to get a better look at what was going on. Their bodies blocked our view, and for a moment, we were able to guess, to make up theories about what we’d see once we had a clear line of sight. The images that flashed through my head were brutal, and I felt a lump growing in my throat.

  As we approached, I turned back to Eleanor Griggs, who was scanning the scene in front of us with watery eyes, her chest heaving.

  “You might want—” I started.

  But she pushed past me and raced toward the crowd. I knew I should stop her, but she was too quick. She did pause, though, as she reached the edge of the crowd, and Gayla and I nearly collided with her back.

  And peered over her head at a pile of leaves. Someone was moving them aside.

  Then I saw what everyone was looking at.

  Something small, tan—and almost certainly human—that dangled from the investigator’s fingertips.

  Chapter Nineteen

  The news reporter’s expression was grave as she stared into the camera.

  “The body part was recovered in the woods near Piper Lake, and it has been identified as belonging to Ryan Griggs, CEO of Kelium Pharmaceuticals. Authorities have yet to release any further information, but Channel 4 can confirm that this Griggs was known to have had a tumultuous relationship with Emily Lindsey, owner of the Carmen Street Confessions blog, who was attacked in her home earlier this week.” The anchor looked off camera for a moment and nodded almost imperceptibly before turning back to the camera. “Like I said, we will have more to share with you about this story as the details come in.”

  It was a piece of ear.

  I’d encountered a lot of body parts during my time as a detective. People seemed to lose body parts in the most ridiculous places, and it’s one of those things that you never get used to, even after you’ve seen it happen a few times. Fingers were a dime a dozen, but I’d also heard about an entire hand in a Dumpster, a human knee bone in a stovetop broiler, and a tongue in a toilet.

  Still, I wasn’t prepared for the ear.

  As we’d stood outside in the woods, peering in at the officer, everything seemed to pause for a moment. Then the reality of what he was holding seemed to sink in for everyone at the same time, and there were collective screams of disgust and horror.

  “Is that a toe?” someone asked.

  “No, it’s a finger.”

  “It’s an ear!”

  It didn’t matter. Whatever each person believed it was, it was enough to confirm that we weren’t out there for nothing, that there wasn’t going to be a polite and decent ending to all of this. The gruesome truth changed absolutely everything about the case, adding as much confusion as it eliminated.

  We were back in the station an hour later, and I rubbed my temples as the news reporter tossed the segment to commercial. The sixty minutes after the discovery of Ryan Griggs’s ear had been a flurry of activity. His wife had crumpled to the ground in the middle of the woods, and when I reached out to help her, I could feel her entire body shaking.

  “It’s his,” she’d said, the tears running down her face. “That’s Ryan’s.”

  “You don’t know that,” I’d said, holding her up, but she shook her head.

  The problem for Eleanor Griggs was in the shading of the ear—pale on one side and dark brown on the back of it. The second
she’d gotten a closer look, she’d known. Unbeknownst to anyone else there that day, Ryan Griggs had a birthmark that extended all the way down the back of his ear. His long, messy ponytail usually hid it, but she’d seen it almost every day for the thirteen years they’d been married.

  And she’d known.

  The ear had been sent away for a full lab analysis, but there was little question about who it belonged to.

  Ryan Griggs, or at least some part of him, had been out in the woods with Emily.

  And something terrible had happened to him.

  I still couldn’t wrap my mind around what, though.

  What motive did Emily have for killing or even hurting Ryan Griggs? Sure, they didn’t like each other, and there had been a sea of threats on both of their sides, but could she really have it in her to do something like this? They could have gotten into some sort of fight, but there hadn’t been a scratch on her when she was brought in.

  It didn’t make any sense.

  Emily was a small woman, and it seemed impossible that she could have overtaken Griggs on her own. Had she had help? Her husband? The webmaster?

  Philip Jameson?

  The pieces of the puzzle were there, but they didn’t come together to make any sort of logical picture. Which must mean that we didn’t have all the pieces.

  I could think of only one person who could help fill in those blanks—and she was sitting silently in a hospital bed, too scared to talk to anyone, including her own husband.

  An officer had escorted a nearly hysterical Eleanor Griggs home, and Jameson had left, his face stony, his breathing labored. He’d been nervous enough when they’d first arrived, but he seemed to reach breaking point once they found the ear.

  Gayla had headed home, and I’d gone back to the station alone. As I sat there watching the news on a small box television, I tried to figure out exactly what it was that I was missing.

  There had to be something.

  I grabbed my things and left the station, heading toward McKinney Memorial. I didn’t know if Emily and Dan had seen the news yet, but it was time for someone to start talking. If not Emily, then her husband. One of them had to know something, anything, whether Emily was responsible for what happened to Griggs or not. You didn’t get that much blood on you without having some idea where it came from.

  Twenty minutes later, I was walking down the sterile, white hallway that led to Emily’s room. It was more time than I’d spent in a hospital in a long time, and I tried not to let my imagination wander. I nodded to the guard near the door, a young cop named Simpson, who I’d known for a few years.

  “She awake?” I asked.

  He nodded, stepping back to let me approach the door. It was open, just slightly, but I knocked on it anyway. It was completely silent inside, and I knocked again. A moment later, Dan Lindsey pulled the door fully open, a frown on his face. He sighed before stepping back and letting me inside.

  He looked exhausted, as if he hadn’t slept in weeks. His hair was crumpled on his forehead, and his wrinkled clothes were the same ones I’d seen him in for several days. His eyes were bloodshot and puffy.

  “Thanks for letting me come in. I won’t stay too long,” I said. “How is she doing?”

  He shook his head. “Not much better.”

  “How long has she been awake?”

  “A couple of hours. She still won’t eat anything.”

  “Has she said anything?”

  “No, she won’t talk to me,” he said. “Which means she’s not going to talk to you. They’ve had shrinks up here and everything. Do you know when I can take her home?”

  “They said that anytime someone touches her, she screams,” I said. “I don’t know how you’d get her home.”

  “We could sedate her,” he said, and he shrugged as my eyebrows lifted. “I know,” he said. “It’s not my first option, believe me. But I can’t imagine that being here in this place is going to make her much better. Can’t you help me? She wants to go home.”

  “No, you want to go home,” I said. “The doctors are just trying to do what’s best for her.” I looked over at Emily, who sat perfectly still on the bed. “Until she says she wants to go home and they think it’s okay, they’re not going to let you drug her and take her out of here. You do understand that, right?”

  His eyes narrowed. “Yeah,” he said sullenly. “I understand.”

  “Can I talk to her?” I asked. “I have a few questions for her.”

  “She’s not going to talk to you,” he said, but he saw my expression and shrugged. “Be my guest.”

  I stepped closer to the bed and stared at Emily. She was looking straight ahead, and she didn’t seem to notice that I’d moved closer to her. She was wearing a blue hospital gown, and I was happy to see that her hands were folded on top of the blankets.

  “Emily,” I started. “Can you hear me?”

  It was a futile try but worth a shot. I knew better than to touch her, but I took another step, getting as close as possible. Part of me felt like she could hear me, and I just needed to work harder to get her to respond.

  “Emily,” I started again. “I hope you remember me. I’m Detective Steven Paul. My partner and I are trying to figure out what exactly happened to you on Sunday. I know you’re not able to talk right now, but can you give me any indication that you can hear me?”

  I waited, barely hopeful, and I took a deep breath when she didn’t move. I didn’t want to hurt her, but I knew I was going to have to keep going. To say something that would get to her. Shock her. I cleared my throat.

  “Emily, we’re looking for your locket,” I said. “The heart-shaped one that you wore all the time.” I looked up and locked eyes with Dan, whose eyes widened briefly. I couldn’t tell if that was surprise about the locket being missing or that I knew about it.

  “Emily,” I said, looking back at her. “We’re trying to figure out what happened to it, since you’re not wearing it and it’s not in your house. Did you lose it?”

  Silence.

  “Emily?”

  Still nothing.

  “What happened to the necklace with the photos of your parents in it?” I asked. “Your mother? Your father?”

  Dan Lindsey was staring at the floor in confusion. “I thought it was at home somewhere,” he said to no one in particular. He looked up at me. “How do you know it’s missing?”

  “It hasn’t been found in the house,” I said. “And her webmaster told me that she never took it off. It isn’t odd to you that she’s not wearing it?”

  “No,” he said. “And that’s an exaggeration. She took it off at home sometimes. How the hell would he know that?”

  “Still,” I said. “It didn’t concern you at all?”

  “I didn’t think about it,” he said. “I guess I had a few other things on my mind.”

  I turned back to Emily, who hadn’t moved. “Emily,” I tried again. “That locket meant a lot to you, didn’t it? What happened to the locket with the pictures of your parents?” I asked. “I know it meant a lot to you.”

  She didn’t respond, but I saw the first sign that my questions were affecting her at all. Emily began to shake her foot beneath the sheet, and I didn’t know if it was because of the locket or because I’d moved into her personal space.

  “Did someone steal it?” I asked quietly. “Did it fall off your neck?”

  “That’s enough,” Dan said, stepping closer to the bed.

  “Come on, Emily,” I said. “You have to help us. You have to tell us what you know. A man is missing. What happened to the necklace?”

  “A man is missing?” Dan said, frowning. “Who is missing?”

  I had to make a split-second decision about whether it was time to play all of my cards.

  “Ryan Griggs is missing,” I said.

  Dan Lindsey looked
up in surprise. Emily reacted, too. She stopped shaking her leg beneath the covers, and her entire body froze. She hadn’t been moving much before, but right after the words came out of my mouth, she seemed to stop breathing, too.

  Which confirmed what I thought.

  She could hear me.

  “Mrs. Lindsey, we found remains of Ryan Griggs out in the woods where the cabdriver picked you up,” I said firmly.

  “That’s enough,” Dan said, but it was a whisper.

  “We found them not too far from where the cabdriver said he found you on the side of the road. We’ll soon be able to confirm that the blood found on you that day is a match for his blood.”

  “I said that’s enough,” Dan said, a little louder this time.

  “So we know something tragic happened out there, and if you don’t start speaking, people are going to start asking if it happened to you, or because of you.”

  “Detective!” Dan said. He moved quickly around the bed and stood next to me, breathing hard, his eyes on mine.

  Emily was shaking in the bed, her eyes watery, her breath coming out in shallow gasps again. I was taken back to the first day I met her, and I knew I’d gone a little bit too far.

  “I told you that’s enough,” Dan said. “Don’t you see how this is affecting her? I get it, that’s what you’re going for, but you’ve got to know that this is not the time or place.”

  “I’m not just trying to help her,” I said. “I’m trying to find out the truth.”

  Emily started moaning, and luckily, her hands were above the sheets still, so I could see them.

  “I’m going to go get a nurse,” Dan said, looking at me accusatorily before giving his wife a final look and turning to run out of the room.

  A second later, Simpson stepped in. “What happened?” he asked, looking uncomfortable.

  I walked closer to the bed, and I knew that I should maybe stop. That last time, the closer we’d gotten, the more she’d howled, and I couldn’t take the chance that she was going to hurt herself again. But she had to know something about Griggs, about the blood that had covered her body, about the symbol we both saw at night. Without thinking, I stepped forward and put my hands on both sides of her face, holding her gently. She began to sway softly from side to side, and I could tell she was beginning to relax.