“I’m not sure if I understand you right, Detective Hayes, but every little detail I found about the case is in the report.” Harris sounded stiff.
“And we don’t doubt that, Detective. We know very well how difficult missing persons cases can be. But we also know that sometimes people remember something weeks or months later. We were hoping this was the case here.” Andi was working his jaw muscles, trying his best to remain calm. George admired his restraint. He wasn’t so sure he would have kept it together like that.
“Well, I can’t keep you from coming, but I can assure you the report holds everything I know.”
“Thank you, Detective Harris. I think we’ll spare us all the trouble. And don’t bother calling Lilly’s parents. We’re going to tell them in person.” With that, Andi ended the call. “So much for not aggravating him.” He sighed.
“It wasn’t your fault, Andi. He’s a prick with zero interest in the case or what happened to Lilly. He didn’t even ask how she died. That tells us everything we need to know.”
“I know. It still annoys me. Fucking idiot.” Andi stared at his cup with the tea.
“See it like this. We save time by not talking to him, which frees us to talk to the parents in depth and to take a look at where she was taken.”
Andi mumbled something unintelligible and took out his bagel. “Do you want your muffins?”
“Thank you.” George took the first muffin and ate it with gusto. Andi reverted back into silence, but it wasn’t as loaded as it had been the day before, or so George told himself.
Chapter 8—The Memory of Bugs
THEY ARRIVEDin Spartanburg at exactly noon. After a short stop at a drive-thru, they made their way through the town to Church Street, where Lilly’s parents lived in a dilapidated bungalow standing in a yard full of junk. It was a bit of a gamble to arrive there unannounced, but in this kind of area, they were fairly sure at least one of them would be at home. Plus, the only thing worse than telling somebody a loved one had been murdered face-to-face was doing so over the phone, and not just because one could miss vital clues from their reaction. Unemployment and poverty were high in this area, and it showed in the trash on the street, the graffiti on the walls, the houses in various stages of decay. The people who lived here were the forgotten ones, the ones who had lost the race, and sadly, most of them were black.
George parked his car as far up the driveway as possible, which was sensible. If they wanted to drive home in it, they needed to keep an eye on it. Andi reached for the door handle on the passenger side.
“Do you want to give them the news, or should I?”
George hesitated. “It’s probably better if I tell them. At least my skin color should calm them somewhat. If they think I’m the one in charge, they’re more likely to cooperate.”
“You’re right. I don’t like it, but you’re right. They don’t know me, and all they’re going to see is another white asshole like Detective Harris telling them their beloved girl is dead.” He opened the door. “Let’s go.”
As it turned out, Michael and Chloe Cordon were both at home. He had just returned from his shift in a factory, and she was getting ready to start hers in a diner. The way Michael’s face closed off the second George and Andi showed their badges made Andi’s heart constrict. This small reaction told him everything that was wrong with their current system. George even had to ask if they could come in. Finally, after a long minute of absolute, laden silence, Michael stepped aside to let them inside the house.
The interior looked a bit better than what the outside suggested. Everything was clean, and the furniture looked worn but well-kept. Pictures of a girl from an infant on hung on the walls and stood in frames on the coffee table and a huge wooden dresser at the far end of the small living room. Lilly was still deeply loved. Andi’s heart broke when he thought about the pain George and he would soon lay at their feet. Chloe sat down next to her husband with her eyes full of sadness, as if she already knew why they were there. She couldn’t be older than forty yet looked almost a hundred when she reached for Michael’s hand.
George cleared his throat. “Thank you, Mr. and Mrs. Cordon, for inviting us in. We’re very sorry to tell you that we found your daughter Lilly yesterday. She was murdered in Charleston.”
Chloe gasped and hid her head on Michael’s shoulder. The husband just stared at nothing for a moment. He, too, was surely under forty. His broad hands and muscled body spoke of a life of hard labor. The expression in his eyes, though, made him look like a vulnerable little boy.
“How—I mean, how long had she been dead?” His voice was barely above a whisper, and Chloe started sobbing. He pulled her into his side, trying to give comfort when he so obviously had none for himself.
“She died about three days ago. I’m so sorry about your loss, Mr. and Mrs. Cordon. And if it weren’t for the lives we could save, we would leave you to mourn in peace.”
Chloe looked up. Her eyes were tearstained. “What do you mean?”
George glanced at Andi for a moment, silently asking how much he should reveal. Andi simply nodded imperceptibly, deciding to trust George’s instinct on this. Also, it wouldn’t look good if he started taking over the conversation at this point. Andi was pretty sure the only reason they were sitting in the Cordon’s living room at the moment was because of George being African American. He hated the fact that the Cordons wouldn’t trust him because of the bad experiences they’d had with other white cops. For the first time since George had been assigned to him, Andi was glad about having a partner. Had he worked alone, this would have been a lot more difficult. And not just because the Cordons wouldn’t have talked to him. It took most of Andi’s mental capacity to shield himself from the onslaught of images he was getting from the arthropods in the area. With many of the yards being unattended, not to mention all the empty or badly cleaned houses, the number of insects was higher than usual. He had already picked up on five bodies in the vicinity, three of them at least two years old, the other two still fresh, a feast for the scavenging insects. And he couldn’t do anything about them. They were all buried, either in yards or in cellars, and he would have a hard time explaining how he knew about them in the first place. Five souls who would probably never see justice because people’s minds were so limited. If he could be open about hisgeschenk, things would be so much better—or so he hoped. It was this fantasy of a different reality that kept him sane in situations like these.
“We can’t reveal too much at this point of the investigation, but it seems Lilly’s abduction wasn’t random. We’re doing everything in our power to get to the bottom of it all and to get everybody who had anything to do with it behind bars.”
“Then you should probably start with that sleazy detective who couldn’t be bothered to take our girl’s disappearance seriously. That Harris guy.” Michael Cordon was angry, and rightfully so.
George held up his hands in a placating gesture. “I can assure you, we’re very much aware of Detective Harris’s attitude. And because he’s so incredibly unhelpful, we’d appreciate it very much if you could tell us everything you remember about the day Lilly vanished.” George paused. “I know it’s hard. If you need a moment….”
Michael shook his head. “No, it’s fine. We can grieve later.”
Chloe looked up from her husband’s shoulder. “Are you sure it’s Lilly? I mean, it’s been a year….” An insane hope blossomed in her eyes.
George looked at Andi for help. With a sigh, Andi took out his phone and pulled up the picture of Lilly Cordon the coroner had sent him before she had started working on her. It was a ritual between them. Evangeline Melcort always sent him the pictures of the victims, and Andi kept them on his phone until their case was closed. Some of those pictures had been with him for some time now, because regardless of how good he was, there were cases even he couldn’t crack. He turned his phone and showed the picture to the Cordons.
“I’m so sorry, Mr. and Mrs. Cordon.”
