Feeling something strange in the pit of my gut, I opened it.
It was a news article scraped from the Claire Lake Weekly Press, one of the few newspapers—if you could call it that—left after the gutting of local media over the past twenty years. It usually focused on upcoming street festivals and farmers’ markets, mixed with laconic paragraphs about the occasional break-in and bicycle theft. Any darker crimes that happened in Claire Lake—domestic violence, drug overdoses—were ignored, as if they never happened at all.
The Weekly Press had reported this story because its air of mystery was of the safe, cozy kind that wouldn’t upset the tourists too much. The underpaid stringer who wrote it had done the usual bare minimum for his tiny fee:
UNIDENTIFIED REMAINS WILL UNDERGO DNA TESTING
Human remains, possibly several decades old, were found near the east shore of Claire Lake by two children playing in the woods last month, according to the Claire Lake Police Department.
The remains were found on the uninhabited side of the lake in early September. They were in a state of advanced decomposition, and only a few parts were recovered. “We do not yet know who this person is,” said Officer Martin Furlong of the Claire Lake PD in a statement. “There are no residences near where the body was found. It appears to be a hiker who possibly got lost, or it is a body that was left there by someone unknown.” Asked if the body could be the victim of a crime, Officer Furlong replied, “We don’t know yet, and given the state of the remains, we may never know. That’s up to the coroner.”
County coroner Tamara Li has stated that the remains are those of a Caucasian woman who has been dead anywhere from 25 to 45 years. She was in her mid-20s when she died. The coroner’s office is not releasing any other details, but they have confirmed that the remains are being tested for DNA to help narrow down who the woman might be.
Asked for a cause of death for the unknown woman, the coroner’s office declined to comment.
It’s possible that no cause of death is able to be determined with remains that old. Police are trying to match the body to missing persons reports, and anyone who may have information on the unidentified woman is asked to call the Claire Lake Police Department.
It was right there, in my inbox: the reason Beth Greer had agreed to talk to me, to have the entire story come out right now.
Lily had been found.
I knew it as surely as I knew my own name. That was Lily, out there in the woods at the edge of the lake. They would run the DNA, and then—what? There had been no DNA testing in 1977, but Beth’s blood and saliva could have been taken when she was arrested. Or maybe they’d find another connection through her family tree. They might not connect the body to Beth tomorrow, or next week, or next month, but they would connect it sooner or later. And Beth knew it.
I sent the article to Michael with the message: I want to know everything about this. I started for the bus stop, my feet moving slowly at first, then faster. It was starting to make sense now, this crazy story. But there were still pieces missing. Pieces I had no choice but to find.
I’d gone this far; it was time to go the rest of the way.
Before the bus arrived, I did one last thing: I called Esther’s cell phone.
She answered on the second ring. “Shea? Is everything okay?”
“I’m sorry to bother you,” I said. “I know you’re working.”
“It’s okay. What’s the matter?”
Because she knew something was the matter. She always knew.
“I just wanted to tell you,” I said to my sister, “I met this woman. She was acquitted of murder forty years ago. No one has ever been sure if she’s innocent. She agreed to do an interview with me. I’ve been talking to her for weeks now.”
“Alone?” Esther sounded alarmed.
“Yes. I thought it would be fine. She’s been telling me things. Some of it might be lies, but I think most of it is the truth. I don’t think she did the murders, but I think what really happened might be worse. There are ghosts in her house that terrify me. And I met Michael, my private detective, face-to-face for the first time, and I kissed him. The second time, not the first time. And I got a cat by accident. His name is Winston Purrchill.”
“Okay,” Esther said.
“So I’ve had a lot going on, too,” I said. “Things I haven’t been telling you. You said I’ve been so far away, and I know that’s true. I don’t want to be far away anymore. I want to tell you everything. If you have a baby, I want to be part of it, as much as you’ll let me. You’re my best friend. If you called me and told me to get you a U-Haul and some garbage bags again, I’d do it. I’d do it as many times as you asked me to.”
“Oh.” There was a pause, and I knew Esther was crying. “Oh, Shea. Of course you’ll be part of it. You’re my best friend, too. But I worry about you. This thing you’re involved with sounds dangerous. You need to walk away from it. You need to let it go.”
“I can’t.” People were passing me on the sidewalk, ignoring me. The bus was coming. “I have to see it to the end.”
“Don’t. I don’t like the sound of it. I can rescue you this time, Shea. Let me do it.”
I shook my head, even though she couldn’t see me. “I can finish this. I have to. And then I’m going to change things, Esther. I promise.”
I hung up before I could change my mind and beg my big sister to come get me and fix everything. Right away, my phone rang. Michael.
I answered it. “Did you get my message?”
“Is this what I think it is?” He sounded excited.
“If you mean Lily, then yes. It’s her.”
The bus pulled up, and the doors opened. I got on, my phone still to my ear.
“I’ll call my contacts,” Michael said. “One of them will know something. The coroner likely has a theory about cause of death. She just didn’t share it with the press.”
“I want to know if Beth’s blood or saliva was taken in 1977. If it wasn’t, I can get you a sample.” I thought about the glass Beth drank from, her grapefruit juice and soda. Maybe it was still sitting on the table.
“Wait a minute,” Michael said. “Where are you right now?”
“I’m going to the Greer mansion.”
“You’re going to talk to her?”
“No. She isn’t there.” That had been in the file I’d read. “She’s in Portland for a medical test. She won’t be back until tomorrow.”
“So you’re going to—what? Break in? That isn’t a good idea, Shea.”
“It’s the only way to get answers. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t call the police. I don’t plan to steal anything, I promise.”
“Jesus, Shea—”
“She has an aneurysm,” I said. I could lose my job for telling him, but I didn’t care anymore. “It’s dangerous, and it’s inoperable. If it bursts, she dies. She could die tomorrow, or she could live another decade. There’s no way to know.”
“My God. So that’s part of the reason she decided to talk now.”
“But not why she chose me.” I stared out the window of the bus as Claire Lake went by. “I still don’t know why she chose me. I’ll be fine, Michael. I’ll call you when I’m out of there.”
I didn’t give him a chance to answer. I hung up the phone, turned it off, and watched Claire Lake recede beneath me as the bus climbed to Arlen Heights.
CHAPTER FORTY
October 1977
BETH
She was looking for Lily.
It wasn’t the first time. Over the years, during the periods Lily had vanished, Beth had sometimes hired a private detective to look for her. She’d paid out of the money left to her after Julian died. But it was always fruitless, because when Lily wanted to vanish, she’d simply vanished.