“What else, Artie? How do you know she killed Boo?”
He pulled the thumb drive from his pocket. “It’s the same one I tried to give you. I saw all the police outside, and I started to connect the dots. Taylor hates you, Parker. A deep and completely unnecessary hatred. She tried to demand that I stop talking to you. I watched the video right as Remy and Chief Townsend knocked on my door.” He sighed deeply, like he was finally free of whatever was holding him down.
“I think she did all of it. I think she started the fire, too. Because after Boo died, I told her that I was looking for the video. She knew that you didn’t want it. Fuck, Parker.” He wiped a tear from his eye. “I am so fucking sorry.” His anguish sat there, begging for redemption. But I had nothing left to give.
“Where is my son, Artie?”
My limbs were heavy, dragging when I wanted to rage. My tongue sat in my mouth, dry and aching for water. My heart slowed until it felt like it would stop beating entirely while I waited for his answer.
“I don’t know, Parker. I really don’t know. All she said when she got home was that she had a grave to dig.”
The interrogation room door slammed open, with Remy staring at me wild-eyed. “I know where he is.” His eyes darted to Artie. “She had a shovel? Said she dug a grave?”
Artie nodded, and Remy grabbed my hand. “Let’s go!”
He pulled me out the door and through the bullpen. Remy swore, stopping just long enough to get everyone’s attention.
“He’s at the cemetery. We’re gonna need an ambulance and something to dig with.”
27
Remy
The drive from Birch Police Department to the cemetery was the longest three minutes in my entire life. Never mind the weeks I had spent in training for the Marine Corps. Or the months I’d spent overseas.
Nothing would ever hold a candle to the time it took me to navigate through town to get to the cemetery.
“How do you know?” Parker’s quiet and broken voice demanded my attention.
“When I checked the cemetery, I saw a new grave near Danny’s. But I didn’t think anything of it. I should have. Dammit!” My palm throbbed as I slammed my hand into the steering wheel. Before I could do anything else, I pulled into the cemetery and parked.
“Focus,” Parker ordered softly.
More cruisers and trucks followed us in. I led the way with Parker on one side and Daisy on the other with a shovel from the back of my cruiser in hand.
Linc fell into step next to me, and I looked over to see the same torment I felt showing on his face.
“We’re gonna get him, Linc.”
Dom joined us, holding two shovels in his hand. “I brought extras.” He motioned to them needlessly, but Parker reached for one.
“Good,” she said. “The more hands, the better.”
We were getting close, so I nodded to the fresh grave.
“Fucking hell, you weren’t kidding.” Dom scrubbed his free hand down his face. “Remy, you should… I think you should get Parker out of here, just in case.”
“The fuck I’m leaving,” Parker snarled with the shovel in her hand. “I have literally had everything taken away from me by this godforsaken world. I’m not about to lose my son, not when I’m finally fucking happy.”
She slammed the shovel into the dirt, and we joined her. Tense minutes passed as more people arrived and silently started helping. Someone began moving the dirt out of the way so we could work faster, and even though there were plenty of men trying to take her place, Parker didn’t relent. She moved, just as furious as the rest of us, in a race to save Nox.
“Come on,” she grunted. “How fucking deep did she bury him?”
Doubt crept in at Parker’s words, and I wiped the sweat from my brow while hiding my grimace. Maybe I’d been wrong. Maybe she didn’t bury him here. We were almost six feet deep already, and wider than any grave should ever be. But we had to be for all four of us to fit and be able to move at the same time. At least ten feet wide, our group kept digging until there was plenty of room.
“I hope I don’t get bit by a zombie,” Dom muttered. “Fucking zombies.”
Linc laughed, mirthlessly and sour. “Nox always says that if we turn into zombies, he’ll shoot us. But if he turns, we’re all toast.”
“He does.” Parker sniffled while still moving the dirt. “He thinks it’s hilarious.” A heartbroken sob filled the air, but she didn’t stop shoveling.
A muffled thud filled the air, and Parker dropped to her knees in the hole. “I hit something,” she cried out.
Dropping to my knees, I started moving the dirt out of the way, revealing an old hope chest.
“Dig around the sides.” Dom and Linc obeyed my order, and I saw Jake’s head appear at the edge.
“Do you need help?” The older man had red-rimmed eyes, and the rough tenor of his voice hit me harder than I thought it would.
“Remy?” Parker said my name quietly, and I turned to see her struggling with the corner of the lid. “Remy, I need your help.”
I moved to her side and pushed her hands out of the way so I could grip the edge and lift with all my might. Still half covered in dirt, with one part of it buried, it was the heaviest thing I’d ever fucking encountered.
Grunting, swearing, and sweating, I pried it open a centimeter at a time until there was enough room for Parker to get down on her knees and see if he was there.
My fingers cracked, and if I wasn’t careful they’d break, but I honestly didn’t give a fuck. Not if Nox was there.
“You can do it,” I reassured Parker when she stared at me with wide-eyed terror. “If he’s in there, he’s alive. He’s alive, Parker.”
She nodded and pulled her phone from the pocket on the side of her leggings, turning on the flashlight.
“He’s here!” she shouted. Immediately a dozen pairs of feet were there at the edge, helping us move the dirt and pry the lid completely open to retrieve Nox’s body.
“Get the ambulance!” Dad’s order sounded out above us, and I turned up to face him with tears in my eyes. “Don’t worry, Remy. He’s gonna be alright. He has to be.”
“Nox!” Parker shook her son, tears streaming down her face, mixing with dirt and snot. She didn’t care though. She had Nox in her arms, and silence filled the air around us as we waited for his chest to rise. For him to open his eyes. For any sign of life. “Nox, baby.” Parker’s cry came from the depths of her soul, and I stood there helpless. “Please, baby. Breathe.”
Paramedics appeared at the top of the hole, and I tried to take Nox from Parker.
“No!” she snarled. “No, you can’t take him.”
She brushed her fingers down his sleeping face.
“Parker,” I whispered her name on a prayer. “Parker, we have to give him to the paramedics. Let them save him. Please, Parker.”
Parker lifted her son into her arms, his body lying limp.
“I can’t,” she cried out. “I can’t leave him!”
“Let me, Parker.” Her eyes met mine, and my tear-stained cheeks matched hers, without a doubt. “Let me take him.”