Grave Deceit

by John J. Hunter

Harrold’s beady green eyes flitted to his hand and he quickly added, “You are one lucky guy.”

  Adrian gave him a hard look.

  As if to lighten the atmosphere, Harrold turned toward the wall and pointed at a frame. “Ah, there he is. My dear friend, Chris. This was taken 20 years ago in Paraguay. One of my most unforgettable trips.”

  Alice stormed out of the house, afraid that she might smash the photograph if she glimpsed her stepfather’s nauseating grin one more time. She paced in the driveway with her arms crossed over her chest waiting for the others to come outside. It took a good five minutes for the remaining company to saunter out of the doorway.

  To Adrian’s chagrin, Harrold took Naomi’s hand in his, kissing it lightly as he bid farewell. Adrian scowled at the old man while Naomi’s cheeks flushed. Tyler appeared behind them, his face as white as a sheet.

  Alice nodded at the red sports car parked in his driveway. “Nice car.”

  Harrold glanced at the car as if he had seen it there the first time. He turned to her and said with his arms wide open, “Can’t a man indulge himself by buying a few nice things in old age?”

  Alice gave him a half-smile. She turned and marched across the driveway toward their car. Tyler climbed into the front seat while Adrian and Naomi jumped into the back. Alice walked the length of the car, opened the door to the passenger seat, and climbed inside. Tyler gunned the engine and the car peeled down the road.

  “What a douche,” said Adrian, watching Harrold hobble toward his house in the rearview mirror.

  “I thought he was quite a gentleman,” said Naomi.

  Adrian frowned, crossed his arms over his chest, and stared out of the window. A sullen silence stretched between them the entire way back.

  CHAPTER 3

  They must have traveled a mile away from the cookie-cutter neighborhood when Tyler pulled up at a gas station. “I-I need to use the restroom,” he stammered. He got out of the car and trundled toward the gas station.

  “So, you seemed quite taken by that Harrold guy back there,” said Adrian turning to Naomi as soon as Tyler was gone.

  “He seemed adventurous. I like that,” Naomi answered.

  Adrian chuckled. “Well, speaking of adventures, I had a deranged serial killer put a knife to my neck just a few weeks ago.”

  “I know. It was so heroic of Alice to risk her life to save you,” said Naomi, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

  “If it weren’t for me, Alice would not even have known who the real serial killer was!” he snapped.

  Sick of hearing them quarrel, Alice stepped out of the vehicle. She saw Tyler stumble out of the restroom, almost tripping over. He pressed his back against the wall and closed his eyes. She rushed to be by his side.

  He was about to fall to the floor and collapse by the time she got near him. She grabbed him by the shoulders and helped him up. “Tyler! Tyler!” she said, shaking him awake.

  He opened his eyes and gave her a dazed look.

  “Did that bastard poison you?” She could feel panic take over her. “I knew we shouldn’t have drank that coffee!”

  Tyler shook his head and placed a limp hand over her shoulder. “I’m fine,” he mumbled.

  “No offense but you look anything but fine. You look like crap.”

  He sank to his feet and rested his head against the wall. It took a long moment for him to collect himself. “There is something that I have to tell you,” he said, locking eyes with her.

  She crouched on the ground next to him, carefully listening to him.

  “It’s about Chris,” he said. “Did you see the photograph Harrold showed us?”

  “No,” Alice said, quietly. “I didn’t need to.”

  Tyler’s eyes widened. He stared at her in shock. “You knew?”

  Alice nodded her head. “Years ago he went by the name of Riley and married my mother Rita.”

  “You said you saw him lying dead after he killed your mom.”

  “I did. I mean, I saw someone lying dead in the hallway. He put a bullet in his mouth, his entire face was blown up. The Feds guessed that it was Riley. They didn’t see a need to investigate further.”

  Tyler stared at her, stunned. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I didn’t want to believe it myself. All my life I found comfort knowing that he was dead.”

  Tyler saw her defeated expression and instantly felt a rush of sympathy toward her. They sat next to each other in silence for the next several minutes. Alice glanced at the car. She could see Adrian and Naomi going all out at each other in the back seat. She imagined they could hear them shouting themselves hoarse if the car windows were not rolled up.

  “We better get back before those two bite each other’s head off,” said Alice with a small smile. She tried to pull herself to her feet but Tyler grabbed her hand and pulled her down.

  “There is something else,” he said, fear flashing in his eyes. “You are not the only one whose life Riley ruined.”

  They stared at each other for a long moment. Realization dawned over Alice’s face and she let out a gasp. Her hand went flying to her mouth. She stared at Tyler, dumbstruck.

  Tyler let go of her hand and stared in the distance. “I didn’t recognize him when I saw his recent picture at his house. It wasn’t until Harrold showed us his old photograph that all the memories came rushing back[KW2][KW3].”

  He looked her straight in the eyes. “I know it was him. He was the one who tossed me in that well years ago and watched me beg for mercy.”

  Alice gaped at him. Her head reeled from the shocking revelation. “How did he come into your life?”

  “My mom was divorced. She dated a new guy every other week. He was one of her lovers.”

  A long moment elapsed without them saying anything to each other. Adrian stormed out of the Camry, slamming the door behind him and bringing his argument with Naomi to a close.

  Alice looked at Tyler. His skin had regained its color and his eyes seemed focused and alert. She startled him by holding his hand. "Listen, there is something that I have to tell you as well."

  She bit her lower lip, thinking over whether she should tell him or not. She did not want to distress him. "I don't think Riley died in the car wreck."

  To her surprise, the news did not rattle him the way she had imagined. "That is a possibility," he said, nodding. "He staged his death once before; he could do it again."

  He was quiet for a moment. "Do you have a plan to catch him?"

  "The body that was found in the car," she replied. "If we can somehow use it to prove that it's not him."

  "Forget it," he said, dismissing her idea with a wave of his hand. "You saw the few scraps of bones that were left."

  Alice rose to her feet. "Let's send those scraps for examination. Maybe something will turn up."

  Adrian had walked a good distance away from the car and was pacing back and forth, looking furious. Alice turned to Tyler and offered a hand to help him to his feet. He grabbed it and heaved himself off the ground.

  "We'll figure out the rest on our way back," she said with a smile.

  It made Tyler smile as well. He was glad to have found his friend again. They walked to the car. Adrian saw them coming and jumped into the passenger seat, refusing to sit in the back with Naomi.

  Tyler settled into the driver's seat while Alice climbed into the back with Naomi, who seemed utterly unperturbed by her angry boyfriend.

  The car revved to a start. Tyler eased it away from the gas station and gunned it on the road, zipping past white-sand beaches and palm tree-lined streets.

  ***

  Naomi picked up the charred bone with a gloved hand and examined it under a magnifying glass. Dressed in a white lab coat, safety goggles, mask, and latex gloves, she felt like she was in her element, doing the thing she loved the most.

  She had initially refused to examine the body. But she couldn't resist returning to the laboratory for too long. She carefully scraped the bone with a scalp
el, collecting the falling dust in a petri dish.

  The fire had damaged the remains so much that she wasn't sure whether there was much left for them to extract DNA and positively identify the body.

  A close inspection of the remains helped her identify one of the bones as a hip bone. It gave her an idea: what if she could extract bone marrow and then use that to extract the mitochondrial DNA.

  But there was a catch: since the mitochondria were inherited by the mother, it would match the victim's mom's DNA. How would they track the mom when they didn't even know who the supposed victim was?

  A frown appeared on her face as these thoughts swirled inside her head. Finally, she shrugged. Not her problem. That was for Alice to figure out.

  She placed the ashen powder in a test tube and mixed it with a solvent by gently shaking the tube. At last, she stood up and walked to a small rectangular box called the centrifuge.

  She clicked open the lid and peered at the rows of cavities arranged in a circular pattern. She slid the sample test tube in one cavity then filled another test tube with water and placed it in the hollow opposite to her sample. With the lid closed, she began punching the buttons on the screen of the device.

  "Time to go for a spin," she said as she pressed start. It let out a low mechanical hum and began vibrating.

  The machine would spin the test tubes at high speed, breaking the cells open. In the end, heavy components would settle at the bottom while lighter ones rose to the top. Soon she would have a DNA fingerprint ready of the person found inside the car.

  ***

  Alice was busy going through some files in a small cubicle at the police department. Sergeant Whitfield had been kind enough to rent her a small place to work on the case. Adrian burst inside, startling her. His eyes shone with frenetic excitement.

  "I got the results from the chemical analysis. The predominant component detected in the sample was charcoal fluid."

  Alice felt a mild sense of surprise after hearing the results. It was surprising to have her doubts confirmed. Riley started the fire, then let the vehicle swerve off the road and crash in the bushes.

  But the question remained, who was the victim found in the car wreck? She was quiet for a few moments as she tried to answer the question in her head. Her eyes glowed with excitement as soon as she came up with a plausible explanation.

  "I think I know who was in the car wreck," she said. "We should pay Tyler's great-grandmother a visit."

  Adrian gave her a confused look. "What does she have to do with any of this?"

  "Trust me," she said as she sprang to her feet. "I have a plan."

  ***

  The presence of the charcoal fluid in the ash confirmed that Riley had set the car on fire deliberately to stage his death. But she still needed to prove that he was not dead. Since Riley had no living relatives, they had no one to compare the DNA to.

  "Remind me again why we are here?" Tyler asked with a scowl as he pulled up outside an old age home.

  "To tell your great grandmother that you love her." Alice smiled.

  "She doesn't have a very pleasant personality."

  "So you're saying that you take after her?"

  "Ha-ha." He turned off the engine and stepped out of the car.

  They had traveled all the way to San Francisco to visit Tyler's great-grandmother. Massive willow trees, lush greenery, and bright colorful flowers adorned the front yard of the complex. The air was rich with a flowery sweet scent and birdsong rang in their ears. Elderly men and women strolled through the garden on winding cobblestone paths.

  "This place is incredible," said Alice, stunned.

  "You'd think living in a paradise like this would put anyone in a good mood. But not Martha Rosaline Clark," he grumbled.

  They walked over the cobblestone path toward the pristine white complex before them, passing by a white marble fountain. Alice glanced at the water and smiled as she sighted fish with iridescent scales swimming inside.

  They climbed the marble steps leading to the glass entrance and sauntered inside. A friendly receptionist greeted them from behind a counter. Tyler leaned over the counter to talk to her while Alice gazed at the gorgeous interior.

  Glossy marble lined the floors, thick columns, sweeping staircases, and a gilded elevator finished the elegant furnishings. She walked a bit further and glimpsed a lounge on the far right with luxurious carpets and plush sofas. A crowd of white-haired men and women laughed as they played games of chess inside.

  The receptionist asked Tyler to wait while she pressed the phone to her ear, mumbling instructions. A beautiful, lithe young woman dressed in a white uniform appeared before them, greeting them with a big smile on her face.

  "Greta will take you to Mrs. Clark," the receptionist told them.

  "Please come this way," said Greta as she turned on her heels and briskly strode toward the elevator.

  The golden elevator door slid open as soon as Greta pressed the button and they all trooped inside. The doors swiped shut and the elevator rumbled to a start, taking them to the floors above.

  "Mrs. Clark has been doing very well lately. She throws very few tantrums these days and it's been weeks since she broke anything," Greta told them with a bright smile.

  Alice's eyebrows shot up at her cheerful manner of delivering such news. She glanced at Tyler. He looked like he was having second thoughts about the visit.

  He opened his mouth to say something but the elevator came to a stop and the doors slid open. Greta marched out of the elevator. Tyler stood behind.

  "This was a bad idea," he mumbled.

  "Come on," said Alice. "Think about your grandfather. It's the least you could do for him."

  She nudged him to step out. He frowned and swatted at her hand but walked out nonetheless. They entered a lavish suite. Greta wound her way past expensive bronze statues and antique vases in the living room, coming to a stop outside a large French door.

  She took a few deep breaths while bouncing on the balls of her feet as if she was bracing herself against an incoming hurricane. It made Alice feel nervous.

  Greta let out a loud exhale, stretched her lips into a wide smile, and knocked on the door.

  "All I asked for was that you let me die in peace!" A woman's shrill quivering voice came from inside.

  "Mrs. Clark," Greta chirped. "You have visitors."

  "Everyone I know is dead," she replied. "At least to me, if not for real."

  Greta spoke in a high-pitched cheerful voice. "The young man who wants to meet you claims to be your great-grandchild."

  "He must be one of those pesky reporters trying to trick me into giving an interview," Martha grumbled. "They want me to talk about how wonderful it feels to be a hundred years old. Well, it feels like shit and I don't want to talk about it."

  "It's me, Grandma," Tyler spoke up. "Tyler."

  His introduction was met with a steely silence. A long moment passed. They glanced at each other unsure whether to keep waiting for an answer or leave.

  "Come in," she said, finally.

  Greta pushed open the double doors and led them inside. Alice sucked in her breath. A large king-sized bed lay in the middle of the room, draped with silken white sheets. A massive flatscreen TV was mounted on a wall, exotic flowers in gorgeous antique vases dotted the corners and expensive paintings adorned the walls.

  A glass door to the right that led the balcony lay open. Greta padded over the luxurious Venetian carpet to the balcony with Tyler and Alice in tow. A woman with wispy white hair sat hunched over in a wheelchair.

  Greta gestured at them to go ahead as she stopped by the glass door.

  "Is there anything you need, Mrs. Clark?" she asked.

  “Check on me in half an hour to see if these two haven’t killed me,” Martha replied.

  Greta bowed her head and skittered out of the room.

  Martha’s skin was as thin as paper and almost translucent. Alice could trace every single blue vein on her arms and neck. Her face
was wrinkled and her eyelids drooped over her gray eyes.

  “Do you really think of me as some sort of psychopath?” Tyler asked as soon as Greta was out of earshot.

  Martha shrugged. “You’ve never been interested in meeting me before. A chance to get rid of me and steal my wealth is the only reason that I can think of behind this surprise visit.”

  “Stop it,” he said, placing a hand over his chest. “You’re hurting my feelings.”

  “I don’t care for your feelings,” Martha replied, unmoved by his performance. “I see you brought your girlfriend with you,” she said, nodding at Alice.

  Alice blushed. The question made Tyler feel awkward as well. “We work alongside each other.”

  “Is that what you young people are calling it these days,” she said. “Anyway, I’m not one to pry into other people’s private matters.” She waved a hand, dismissing the subject.

  “Why are you here? And let’s make this quick,” she said, fixing them with a piercing gaze.

  “It’s about Grandpa,” Tyler began to explain.

  Martha’s eyes grew round with surprise. “What has he done now? I thought he died months ago.”

  Alice felt taken aback by the woman’s callousness.

  “It’s about his grave. Someone dug it up and stole his body.”

  Martha stared at him in shock. “What?” she said. “But why?”

  “We have a hunch about what could be a possible motive. But to prove it we need your blood.”

  “What?” Martha looked livid. “I knew it! The two of you came here with vile intentions!”

  Tyler realized his mistake and hastened to correct himself. “No, no! That’s not what I meant!”

  But Martha was in no mood to listen. She turned her wheelchair and zipped out of the balcony and into her bedroom, lunging for the telephone and frantically dialing security. “Don’t think for a moment that you will get away with this,” she hissed.

  “We think your son’s body was used by a fugitive to stage his death in a car accident,” Alice blurted.

  Martha blinked at her, wordlessly. The sound of someone repeatedly muttering hello came from the receiver that she held to her ear.