The Burying Place

'What about now?'

'Now I can't help but wonder,' he admitted.

'Didn't you wonder before? It was three years. You must have thought it was odd that Valerie couldn't get pregnant for so long, and then she suddenly did.'

'It's not odd at all. I'm a doctor. People think conception is predictable, but it's not. It can happen with one sexual encounter, or it can take six months or six years, or it can never happen at all, even when both partners are perfectly healthy. Don't try to outguess God, Ms Dial.'

'I thought most surgeons believed they were God.'

'Confidence and ego make you a better doctor, but you also have to be smart enough to know when you don't have all the answers.'

'You certainly seem like you have all the answers,' Serena told him.

'I wish I did.'

'Tell me something. Why did you cheat on Valerie? She's beautiful. She's smart. She loves you. Wasn't that enough?'

'It has nothing to do with Valerie,' he said. 'It doesn’t mean I don't love her.'

'She nearly killed herself because of your neglect.'

She regretted saying it, but he didn't react with anger. Instead, there was resignation in his voice. 'Do you really believe that her suicide attempt was my fault? Valerie has suffered from depression for most of her life. It's a medical condition.'

'Are you saying you bear no responsibility for her state of mind?'

'I'm saying I didn't make her who she is. I may not wear my heart on my sleeve, but Valerie knew that from the beginning. I keep her clothed and fed and give her all the money she could ever use. A lot of women would welcome a marriage like that.'

She didn't want to debate him. His warped view of love and marriage didn't matter. It was time to get back to what she really needed to say.

'What are we going to find in the woods?' she asked.

He didn't answer.

'Did you hear me? They're starting the search. What are we going to find?'

'I have no idea.'

Serena pointed through the window. Across the dirt road, away from the cemetery, a short, balding man held tight to a beagle that strained at its leash. Its ears flapped, and its nose was buried in the long grass. The dog was hungry to run. Smell. Hunt.

'See that dog?' she said. 'It's trained to recognize the gases of decomposing human flesh.'

Glenn stared at the beagle. 'It's an awful skill to give an animal, isn't it?'

'What is she going to find?'

'I can only speculate. I don't know.'

'So take a guess.'

Glenn's face was oddly passive, as if he were detached from everything that was happening around them. 'I guess you're going to find Callie.'

Serena felt her heart race. 'You think Callie is buried there?'

'Don't you? Isn't that why we're here?'

'Did you put her there?' she asked.

'No,' Glenn told her with a raspy sigh. 'But if someone is framing me, if someone left the toy there for you to find, well, I can't escape the obvious conclusion.'

'You think your daughter is dead.'

'I'm afraid so. We'll find out soon enough.' 'That's all you can say?' Serena asked.

'What else is there?'

What else but grief, Serena thought. What else but tears and desperation. What else but a horrible, irreparable sense of loss.

'Who could have done this?' She didn't add: if not you.

'It must have been Regan.'

'She had an alibi,' Serena reminded him.

'So maybe she was working with someone.'

Serena tried to read the surgeon's face, but there was nothing in his expression. 'You probably won't believe this, Dr Glenn, but I've been the one defending you. I'm the only one who hasn't been convinced from the beginning that you were guilty of murdering your daughter.'

'And what do you think now?' he asked.

'I think you may be the coldest man I've ever met,' Serena said. 'Cold men have no conscience. No empathy. They can do terrible things.'

'Or they can save lives on an operating table,' Glenn replied with a shrug.

Outside the car, the beagle unleashed a fury of impatient barking. Serena saw Stride approach the man with the dog and point to a spot on the north side of the trees. When he turned toward the Lexus, Stride caught Serena's eye and looked away.

Micki Vega was by his side. She saw the Lexus too, and Serena watched her eyes widen in dismay as she stared at Marcus Glenn. Her mouth fell open, and she took a step toward the car as if she would run to him. Serena thought she might cry. Micki said out loud, in a voice that barely carried through the glass, 'I'm sorry.'

Beside her, Serena watched Marcus Glenn offer Micki a small smile. He mouthed two words to her: 'It's OK.'

Micki turned away, bowing her head.

'Am I under arrest?' Glenn asked Serena. 'No.'

'Then I'm going home.'

Chapter Forty-one

Valerie sat on the floor. Her fingers kneaded the white carpet. Ten feet away, a fire burned in the middle of the stone fireplace that dominated the wall. It was a gas fireplace, with fake logs that burned forever and didn't crackle or pop like real wood. The circle of heat from the artificial flames barely reached across the drafty room to warm her shoulder. She was cold.

She thought about the fire pit behind Denise and Tom's house by the river. Every year, on Christmas Eve, Tom stoked a bonfire that roared for hours, and the kids squealed and played games, and the adults drank beer and wine. Before she had married Marcus, she had joined them for their holiday tradition. She would sit silently in the shelter of the fire and envy her sister for everything she had. Husband. Kids. Responsibilities. Joy. Every year, she had felt like an outsider at someone else's feast, but even so, she missed being part of it. She missed simplicity. Christmas with Marcus was lavish but sterile. One year, they had gone to Italy. The next year, they had cruised in the Caribbean. Another time, they had catered a party for hospital staff with roast turkey, elaborate canapes, and expensive California wines. Even in her own home, she had felt as if she were on the outside, looking in.

This year, she had thought that it would all be different, because this year, she would have Callie in her arms. They could build traditions of their own. But it wasn't going to happen now. It wasn't going to be like that at all. She would be as alone as an island in the middle of the lake.

Valerie knew they were searching. They were in the woods, with lights and dogs and cameras. They weren't going to bring Callie back to her, pink and happy, giggling as her mother laughed and cried. They were going to call her with other news. The phone would ring in the middle of the night, shattering the silence. It would be Denise or Serena or Stride. Their voices would have the low, ominous bass of tragedy, and they would tell her how sorry they were. Marcus would put an arm around her, and his comfort would be as false as the logs in the fire that refused to