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Authors: Leann Sweeney
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I joined Emma and Don White near Emma’s driveway, and we watched the careful work of the ME’s assistant. The folks working the scene were in no hurry. Heck, at the pace they were going they might be done by the second Wednesday of next month. After about thirty minutes, White left us to consult with the other cops, but kept glancing our way. Guess he thought Emma might make a run onto the property. Like I’d let her do that.
The only good thing that happened during the hour we stood there was the pleasant cool front that blew in. At least we weren’t sweating like hogs anymore. Emma called a friend and made arrangements for her brother and sister to be picked up and taken to the hotel. With that settled, she seemed more relaxed and far more interested than I was in the activity going on in front of us. CSU officers, the Harris County Medical Examiner’s assistant and cops doing their jobs. I’d seen it all before.
“Why do you think they’re taking so long?” Emma finally asked. “What’s left of her tiny body shouldn’t stay in the dirt any longer.”
I put an arm around her shoulders. “They have their protocols. And I’m guessing they’re looking for more graves. You see the grid they’ve made?” I pointed at the small stakes and the strings connecting them. “The CSU officers are sifting through every inch of ground looking for more bones or maybe even more bodies.”
Emma folded her arms and moved away from me. “More bodies? That’s ridiculous.”
“Like I said, they follow procedure. Any evidence from the scene is vital in a case like this. The city and state have an obligation to that baby, and they have to make sure no one else is buried there.”
“You mean like my mother?” Emma said. “Does Sergeant White think I killed them and buried them in my yard?” She wasn’t angry, just incredulous.
“I have no idea what he thinks. I’m certain the evidence will convince him of the truth—that you have nothing to hide. But count on being questioned again. Probably Shannon and Luke will be brought in, too.”
“Why? They don’t know anything.”
“The police have to make sure,” I said.
Emma returned her gaze to where the CSU officers were gathering small items impossible to identify from where we stood. “So everything they collect is important—like the bags of soil I saw them taking away. How can dirt from my yard help them learn the truth?”
“From what little I know about soil collection, the earth around the spot where they found the bones will help establish when your sister died and maybe even when the body was placed in that spot.”
Emma looked at me. “How long will that take?”
“I wish I knew.”
We again turned our attention to the yard. The ME’s assistant was carefully lifting the trash bag, supporting her bundle, ready to slide it into a body bag. What was probably left of that tiny skeleton could have fit in a giant Ziploc. But they needed that trash bag. It might hold answers. Answers Emma needed.
Emma made the sign of the cross and bowed her head.
I clasped my hands and stared down at the sidewalk in respect for the child who had died, had perhaps been buried alive under that house—a thought I would never share with Emma, but one that had been with me since that diaper and those bones had been discovered.
Then, before we could blink, the fab trio descended on us—Mayo, Burch and Crowell. My daddy always said that no matter how high or out of sight a bird was, it always came back to earth to eat. And these guys were ready to feast on Emma.
“If you could join us in the trailer, we have a few things to discuss, Ms. Lopez,” Mayo said. He turned and left for his luxury ride.
Hmmm, I thought. She’d been “Emma” before, but now she wasn’t getting the “we love you so much” treatment. It dawned on me then that no happily-ever-after program like Reality Check would want anything to do with dead babies. This was about
I joined Emma and Don White near Emma’s driveway, and we watched the careful work of the ME’s assistant. The folks working the scene were in no hurry. Heck, at the pace they were going they might be done by the second Wednesday of next month. After about thirty minutes, White left us to consult with the other cops, but kept glancing our way. Guess he thought Emma might make a run onto the property. Like I’d let her do that.
The only good thing that happened during the hour we stood there was the pleasant cool front that blew in. At least we weren’t sweating like hogs anymore. Emma called a friend and made arrangements for her brother and sister to be picked up and taken to the hotel. With that settled, she seemed more relaxed and far more interested than I was in the activity going on in front of us. CSU officers, the Harris County Medical Examiner’s assistant and cops doing their jobs. I’d seen it all before.
“Why do you think they’re taking so long?” Emma finally asked. “What’s left of her tiny body shouldn’t stay in the dirt any longer.”
I put an arm around her shoulders. “They have their protocols. And I’m guessing they’re looking for more graves. You see the grid they’ve made?” I pointed at the small stakes and the strings connecting them. “The CSU officers are sifting through every inch of ground looking for more bones or maybe even more bodies.”
Emma folded her arms and moved away from me. “More bodies? That’s ridiculous.”
“Like I said, they follow procedure. Any evidence from the scene is vital in a case like this. The city and state have an obligation to that baby, and they have to make sure no one else is buried there.”
“You mean like my mother?” Emma said. “Does Sergeant White think I killed them and buried them in my yard?” She wasn’t angry, just incredulous.
“I have no idea what he thinks. I’m certain the evidence will convince him of the truth—that you have nothing to hide. But count on being questioned again. Probably Shannon and Luke will be brought in, too.”
“Why? They don’t know anything.”
“The police have to make sure,” I said.
Emma returned her gaze to where the CSU officers were gathering small items impossible to identify from where we stood. “So everything they collect is important—like the bags of soil I saw them taking away. How can dirt from my yard help them learn the truth?”
“From what little I know about soil collection, the earth around the spot where they found the bones will help establish when your sister died and maybe even when the body was placed in that spot.”
Emma looked at me. “How long will that take?”
“I wish I knew.”
We again turned our attention to the yard. The ME’s assistant was carefully lifting the trash bag, supporting her bundle, ready to slide it into a body bag. What was probably left of that tiny skeleton could have fit in a giant Ziploc. But they needed that trash bag. It might hold answers. Answers Emma needed.
Emma made the sign of the cross and bowed her head.
I clasped my hands and stared down at the sidewalk in respect for the child who had died, had perhaps been buried alive under that house—a thought I would never share with Emma, but one that had been with me since that diaper and those bones had been discovered.
Then, before we could blink, the fab trio descended on us—Mayo, Burch and Crowell. My daddy always said that no matter how high or out of sight a bird was, it always came back to earth to eat. And these guys were ready to feast on Emma.
“If you could join us in the trailer, we have a few things to discuss, Ms. Lopez,” Mayo said. He turned and left for his luxury ride.
Hmmm, I thought. She’d been “Emma” before, but now she wasn’t getting the “we love you so much” treatment. It dawned on me then that no happily-ever-after program like Reality Check would want anything to do with dead babies. This was about
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