“We’ll get word out in town. Keep an eye on kids. Don’t go out alone. Although after this gets out, we won’t have to say much,” Maria said.
“The chief will want to do a presser,” Martz said.
They went over the scene, making notes and sketching diagrams. Dr. Henry Dumont, the ME approached. His tufts of white hair jutted at angles from his head. He wore a loose-fitting tan suit with loafers. He shook hands with both of them and went on to examine the bodies.
When the ME gave the okay, the bodies were bagged up and loaded for transport to the morgue. She reflected that they didn’t take up much room on the gurneys. Didn’t want to think on that too much. Nor did she want to think what indignities their bodies would suffer on the ME’s table.
A uniformed cop was still talking to Mom. Her shoulders shook and she sobbed. She watched the EMTs load up the physical remains of her sons. At that moment, she was glad she’d never had kids.
They moved out of the weeds and Maria spotted the first news van pull up, an orange and blue monstrosity from Action Seven News. She didn’t want to deal with the press right now.
“So I’m thinking we make the rounds at Horizon House,” Martz said.
“It can’t hurt. Don’t think there’s any pedos in there right now, but we’ll stir things up,” Maria said.
“You’d think the town council would’ve found a way to force a halfway house out of town by now.”
“They mind their business, I suppose,” Maria said. “Mostly tweakers and junkies in there trying to worm back into society.”
“Guess it’s time to talk to Mom,” Martz said.
“I hate this part of the job.”
“Me too,” Martz said.
Regina saw the detectives approaching. They were both dressed casually, their badges hanging on lanyards around their necks. Even without the badges, there was no doubt they were cops. Had a look that said they’d seen it all and don’t fuck with them.
They introduced themselves. She forgot their names within a few seconds of being introduced. This whole thing seemed like someone else’s life right now.
“Mrs. Clark,” the dark-haired detective said. “I’m sorry for your loss. We need to ask you a few questions.”
“That’s fine.”
“Can you walk us through what happened? When did you realize the boys were missing?”
Regina ran through everything. How they were late. Texting them, then calling. Finally, she shared how she’d gotten in the car and driven to the power plant. Then there was finding them. By the time she was finished, fresh tears were streaming down her face again. One of the uniformed officers standing nearby offered her a travel-sized pack of tissues. She took one, wiped her eyes, and blew her nose.
The blonde detective said, “Was there anyone you were worried about? Acting funny toward your kids?”
The question dropped the temperature of her blood a few degrees. “I never considered that. God, that’s creepy. But no.”
“Is the boys’ father living at home?” the blonde said.
“What kind of question is that?” Regina asked.
“We have to talk to everyone,” the dark-haired one said.
“He died in an industrial accident two years ago, so I guess he’s not a suspect, right?”
“We’re sorry for your loss,” the dark-haired detective said.
“But you’ll check my story, won’t you?”
Neither one of them said anything.
“Again, we’re sorry,” blondie said.
“I doubt that. If we’re done, I’d like to go home. I suppose I have to figure out arrangements,” Regina said.
“We’ll be in touch with follow up questions,” blondie said.
“Of course you will.”
Regina drove home, although upon returning to the house, she couldn’t have told anyone which route she’d taken. This still felt like she was playing out some bizarre movie role. Things were hazy right now.
Before she’d left, the cops had told her the autopsies would take a few days and then she could make arrangements. They would be closed caskets, she thought grimly. The thought of them laid out on the coroner’s table made her sick. Those tables had gutters on the sides to collect blood, didn’t they? Then were the bone saws. And they weighed the organs, didn’t they? Shit, she’d seen too many episodes of Criminal Minds.
Were these the thoughts that would run through her head from now until she joined her dead sons? That would be torture. She didn’t know how she’d live with it.
Did they suffer much?
Did they call for me?
What if I’d gone sooner to look for them?
There was a bottle of Oxy up in the medicine cabinet left from her husband’s back surgery. It was old, but there would still be some potency to the pills. Especially if she took a handful of them.
They would go down nicely with vodka. There was a bottle of it in the cupboard where she kept liquor.
That first glance of them had been the worst. Her brain hadn’t registered right away what had happened. The boys had looked like gruesome movie props. That was a movie she couldn’t allow to play in her head forever.
This wasn’t the first time she’d thought of swallowing the pills. Ever since Dan had died, the thought had occurred to her on a weekly basis. But the boys had kept her going. Now they were gone, too.
She went to the cupboard and grabbed the bottle of vodka. Took a pull off of it to prime the pump. She went upstairs, the horror show that had happened at the powerhouse rolling in her head. Thinking of the boys butchered like hogs.
That was getting shut off. Permanently. The boys were all she had; now they were gone.
In the bathroom, she grabbed the Oxy from the medicine cabinet. The small green bottle was
