Chapter 3 - Emily Never Died in That Car
The official story was simple.
Twenty-two years earlier, Emily disappeared after an argument with me.
She was nineteen.
Angry.
Impulsive.
She drove away from our home outside Milwaukee.
Two days later, her car was found at the bottom of a ravine in northern Illinois.
It had burned.
The remains recovered were badly damaged.
I was told identification had been confirmed through belongings and dental comparison.
I buried a closed casket.
For twenty-two years, I blamed myself.
Our last conversation had been about money.
Emily wanted to move to Seattle with a musician named Caleb Hart.
I refused to finance it.
She called me controlling.
I called him a loser.
She walked out.
That was the last time I saw her.
Now a seven-year-old sat in front of me wearing Emily's locket.
I called my attorney, Thomas Keene.
Then I called the retired investigator whose name appeared in Emily's old file.
He was eighty-one.
He remembered the case.
When I told him about the locket, he became quiet.
“Mr. Reed, there was always one problem.”
“What?”
“The dental identification.”
I gripped the phone.
“I was told it was conclusive.”
“It wasn't.”
The comparison relied on partial dental work and records supplied through a private dental office.
“Whose office?”
He gave me the name.
Dr. Allan Hayes.
Veronica's late husband.
I looked across the room.
Veronica had married Allan Hayes four years after Emily supposedly died.
At the time, I barely knew her.
Years later, we reconnected through charity work.
She never mentioned any connection to my daughter's case.
I lowered the phone.
“Veronica.”
She looked at me.
“Was Allan involved in identifying Emily's remains?”
Her mouth opened.
May you like
Nothing came out.
That was answer enough.
