Chapter 42 - The Husband I Buried

Now

I jumped into Keith’s pickup truck, Tess beside me.

I leaned forward. ‘So where are we going?’

‘To answer some questions,’ he said, the truck rumbling.

I was surprised when Keith pulled up outside the cemetery gates, gravel crunching under the tires as he pulled off the road. He’d been sketchy with the details of the plan, and now I could see why.

The hum of the truck faded into nothing, replaced by the heavy hush of the air around us. Even the crickets seemed to have gone quiet.

‘We need to know who was in that accident, because it wasn’t Luis,’ said Keith. ‘But it might point us in the right direction. I’m guessing it has something to do with why Luis disappeared.’

‘We could check the missing persons records,’ I suggested.

Keith gave a hollow laugh. ‘Have you seen how many people go missing each year? We’ve got nothing but a rough age and height. It could be anyone,’ he said. ‘Who knows, maybe he was a loner and no one reported him missing.’ Keith rested his elbow against the window trim on the driver’s-side door. ‘This is insane.’

‘OK, if you’ve got a better idea, I’d love to hear it,’ I said.

‘I don’t know. I think we go to your “appointment” at the Institute and see what they have to say, but I just . . .’

He trailed off, leaving the question there for me to ask. ‘You just . . .?’

‘I don’t know,’ he said. ‘I guess I want to see what we can find out first. Get a better idea of what we’re dealing with.’

That made sense. I wasn’t sure I trusted anyone except myself anymore.

‘What if they’re dangerous? We don’t know who these people are, but they’re being pretty fucking cryptic if they’re legit.’

‘They’re completely visible online. The Coterie Institute is a legitimate business,’ I said.

‘Then why do they have your apparently dead husband’s cologne all over their shit?’

I smiled. He was now where I was at, and ready to take the next step. ‘That’s exactly what we’re going to find out. What if Luis didn’t want to disappear?’ I said. ‘What if someone set him up?’

The cemetery loomed ahead, silent and sprawling, most of the paths disappearing deep into rows of graves.

Keith got out and went to the back of the pickup, popping a lock box open. He pulled out something that looked like a piece of home-rigged lawn equipment. I frowned. ‘Doing some early morning groundskeeping?’

‘Ground-Penetrating Radar,’ he said, matter of fact. ‘It shows what’s buried underground. At least we’ll know if there’s anything there.’

I crossed my arms. ‘You just . . . keep one of those in your car?’

He arched a brow. ‘Would it surprise you if I did?’

‘Not really,’ I admitted. ‘You have that whole conspiracy-theorist-in-a-trench-coat vibe. What do you even do for a living?’

‘I’m a PI,’ he said, like that explained everything.

At least it explained the gear.

He glanced toward the gates. ‘Cemetery’s still closed. So this technically counts as trespassing. You OK with that?’

‘Technically?’ I muttered, following him as he started toward the fence. He was a strange person.

‘Listen, I was going to come out here anyway,’ he said. ‘It won’t tell us if it’s Luis, but it’ll tell us if there’s someone down there. If there is, we know it’s probably the guy who died in the crash, but I just want to make sure.’

I stopped him with a look. ‘Why bring me?’

He hesitated, then said, ‘Because I don’t know you very well, but I’m pretty sure you’ll want to see for yourself.’

He wasn’t wrong. If there was even a chance Luis’s grave was empty, I needed to see it with my own eyes.

‘Fine,’ I said. ‘Let’s find out.’

We climbed the gate, our shoes crunching softly on the gravel path beyond. Tombstones leaned at crooked angles. We stopped at Luis’s grave. My stomach twisted. Seeing his name etched into the stone felt obscene now. Like a lie carved in granite. I placed my hand atop the stone, something catching my eye. A small, metal charm, the kind people wear on a chain around their neck. A symbol. Two snakes, swallowing each other’s tails.

I quickly pocketed it.

Keith knelt beside the grave, setting up the device. The screen flickered to life, casting cold blue light across his face.

I crouched beside him, eyes locked on the scrolling lines. ‘What exactly are we looking for?’

‘Disturbed soil layers. Voids. Anything that says the ground’s been tampered with. Maybe a coffin shape if we’re lucky.’

‘Lucky?’ It didn’t feel lucky to me.

‘You wanted answers. That’s the best I can give you without digging someone up.’

The lines rippled across the screen, waves of color and noise mapping the earth below.

‘With proper burial sites it’s harder to tell than with makeshift ones,’ he said.

‘Why?’

‘They’re buried deeper.’

The words hung there while Keith worked the machine.

I watched in fascination. I had no idea what he was reading on the little graph, but he seemed to know what he was doing.

‘Looks like a rectangular cavity,’ Keith muttered. ‘About six feet down. Consistent with a burial.’

My throat went dry. ‘So, there is something there.’

‘Maybe,’ he said. ‘But I’m not getting any density variation.’

‘Meaning?’

‘Meaning, it could be hollow.’

‘You mean . . . the coffin’s empty?’ I asked.

Keith adjusted the sensor, running it again. ‘Could be. It’s not conclusive, but – yeah. It doesn’t read like there’s a body inside.’

‘That doesn’t mean anything,’ I said. ‘There wasn’t a lot left to bury. But where there’s a coffin, there’s usually a body.’

I tapped a finger against my elbow while I thought. ‘We could request an exhumation,’ I said, my lawyer instincts kicking in. ‘But it’d take weeks and we’d need permits.’

A sound cut him off. Rustling. Grass shifting.

My heart leapt into my throat. ‘Keith—’

It was still too early for visitors. The gates hadn’t opened yet.

‘I heard it,’ he whispered.

Either the morning rounds had begun, or someone was following us.

Either way, it was time to get out of there.