The Last Good Girl (25 page)

“Okay, folks, we'll split into teams of twenty.” Cooper starting reading from a clipboard. “First Calvary Baptist Church, you've got the ten square blocks bordered by Woodward, Gratiot, I-75, and the river. Artists Without Borders, you've got the Metropolitan Building, all fifteen floors, rooftop, and basement.”

Cooper continued to go through assignments for the volunteers. They were people of all colors and backgrounds, gathered together for the singular cause of finding Emily Shapiro. They would not be paid. They were motivated by the desire to help another human being. In her job, Anna saw so much of the worst things people could do to one another. Seeing the best brought tears to her eyes—the first good tears she'd had in a long time.

Cooper handed out maps to the teams, each with a different section of the city circled in red. Anna felt a sense of pride watching him.

He would lead his own team of teenagers, kids from the local high school who worked on his farm as part of an internship program. Anna would stay and work on the international legalities with Jack. She waved as Cooper and his teams set off.

Within minutes, the yard was quiet. She and Jack were the only people left. It was the first time she'd been alone with him since he'd come to Michigan. She called for Sparky, who trotted after her as she walked back into the house. Jack came with her into the kitchen.

She poured two cups of coffee. They stood facing each other, propped against Cooper's cabinets, sipping.

“He's a good man,” Jack said.

“Yes,” she said. She didn't want to talk about Cooper with Jack. “Let's see if we can get Canada up and running by this afternoon.”

They sat at the kitchen table and started making phone calls. Jack coordinated with the local police to get the Detroit River dredged. DOJ's Office of International Affairs had a Canadian liaison who made the necessary connections with the Windsor authorities. Anna spoke to the consul, getting the final information she needed for an international cooperation agreement. She coordinated with the Canadian police department on the search on their side.

• • •

By two
P.M.
, all the legal work they could do was done. Jack shut his laptop and looked across the table at Anna. It was so strange sitting with him here in Cooper's house.

“So this is what I'm up against,” Jack said, gesturing around the kitchen.

“I wouldn't say you're ‘up against' anything,” Anna said, feeling defensive. “I didn't come to Michigan looking for something to challenge you with. But you had your own stuff going on. You had to figure things out with Nina. I don't blame you for that. She was your wife, the mother of your child. When she came back to town, you had to see if you could make it work.”

“I broke your heart.”

“Yeah.” Anna sighed. “You did.”

“I regret it more than anything else in my life. You know that, right?”

She bit her lip and nodded.

“I want to make it right, sweetheart. Nina was never a threat to us. She's Olivia's mother, that's all. I love you, and only you. There's a beautiful wedding dress hanging in our closet, a diamond ring in my nightstand. There's a little girl who can't wait to be your daughter, and a yellow house waiting for you to make it the happiest place on earth. I want to take you home.”

Home. The life he described was the one she'd dreamed of for so long. A daughter she adored, a beautiful house. A husband who was a pillar of the legal profession, and who would gently teach her how to become one too. She'd be one-half of a power couple in one of the most vibrant cities in the world. She'd had a terrible childhood, and part of her had always been afraid that if she didn't work hard enough, if she didn't make all the right choices, she was doomed to repeat it with her own family. Being with Jack was the ultimate proof that she'd made it out.

“You can't want this,” Jack said, looking around Cooper's house. “Living in the middle of postindustrial nowhere.”

“Hey.” She bristled. “This city has a lot going for it. And Cooper is helping it come back.”

“With a chicken farm.”

“It's an apple orchard. He just happens to have a few chickens. People around here love him; he's a highly respected businessman. Detroit is coming back—and Cooper is at the front of that. And—and—and—I don't want to talk about this with you.” She stood. Jack's words stung because they were true. There wasn't a restaurant, store, or even a 7-Eleven for miles. Cooper's house was surrounded by abandoned lots and urban blight. She herself had a hard time imagining living here forever. “I'm going to help the search teams.”

Jack stood too. “I'm sorry,” he said quietly. “I'll come with you.”

• • •

They drove through the city in silence and parked by Book Tower, a gorgeous thirty-eight-story Renaissance-style skyscraper that was abandoned. Several of its windows were covered in plywood. Jack looked up and whistled.

She pointed down the street. “The FBI building is a couple blocks from here.”

Voices came from above and Anna looked up. Cooper stood on the roof of the building, calling orders. She and Jack went inside the shattered foyer. Rotting drywall hung from the walls, and electrical wires hung from the ceiling. Broken chunks of plaster sat in piles on the floor. Anything of value—metal, marble, copper pipes—had been long ago stolen and sold for scrap.

They walked up the graffiti-covered staircase, breathing hard when they came out at the rooftop. Cooper gave her a big smile, which dimmed when he saw Jack emerge from the stairwell. But he waved them over.

“How goes the legal strategy?” Cooper asked.

“It's all locked down,” Anna said. “How goes the search?”

“I'll show you.”

Cooper led her and Jack over to the edge of the rooftop. She could see the entire city from here. The Detroit River ran to the east, broody and gray. Several police boats moved slowly on the waters, dragging nets. To the west were lower buildings with a few people atop them, walking, pointing flashlights, calling to one another. More people helping with the search. To the north stood several more skyscrapers, standing empty. It was like looking at modern ruins: Angkor Wat or the Library at Ephesus. In the distance, she saw a neat row of trees. Cooper's farm.

Cooper rested his hand on the small of her back as he described the various teams. She saw Jack look at the gesture, and she tensed up. Cooper noticed and pulled his hand away. He swept it across the horizon. “If we don't find anything today, I'll try Central Station tomorrow.”

A cell phone rang—Jack's. A picture of Olivia, grinning in pigtails, flashed on his screen. “Excuse me.” Jack took a couple steps away to answer the call from his daughter. “Hi, sweetie! How was your day? I'm good. No, you cannot have a Pop-Tart for your snack. Guess who I'm with? That's right. Well, let me see.” He lowered the phone and asked Anna, “Can you talk to Olivia?” Anna nodded, and he handed her the phone.

“Hello?”

“Anna!” screeched the little girl.

“Hi, lovey. How are you?”

“I'm good. I miss you.”

“I miss you too.”

“Guess what I saw today?” Olivia asked.

“What?”

“No, you have to guess.”

“Okay. A purple hippo?”

The girl giggled. “No.”

“Katy Perry?”

“No, silly. I saw a woolly mammoth.”

“That was my next guess,” Anna said. “Where did you see a woolly mammoth?”

“We had a field trip to the Natural History Museum.”

“That's awesome. Did you see the dinosaur bones?”

“Yes! Guess what else.”

“The Hope Diamond?”

“Yes! And?”

“A giant blue whale hanging from the ceiling.”

“You know everything.”

“No, I just love that museum.”

“Me too. I want to go again, with you. When are you coming back?”

“Um, I'm really not sure.”

“Anna. It's no fun here without you. We really need you. My dad needs you.” Olivia's voice grew serious. “I need you. I love you.”

“I love you too. I—I'll see about coming to see you soon. Be good, lovey.”

She handed the phone back to Jack, feeling the significance of the gesture. Her tie to Olivia was entirely through Jack. Anna's love for the girl was as pure and true as anything she'd ever felt—but she could only be part of Olivia's life by being with Jack. Without him, Anna was nothing to Olivia. She was just a woman searching an empty skyscraper for a corpse.

She walked to the ledge and gazed out at Detroit. It looked as shattered as she felt.

A
nna was sitting at Cooper's kitchen table when the case broke. She called the FBI DNA lab right when it opened. “Just checking to see if there are any results.” Officially, evidence was processed in a certain order, but unofficially, it was tested faster if a persistent AUSA or agent was calling all the time.

“Hang on a sec,” the analyst said. Anna heard a shuffling of paper and the clicking of keys. “Yes, we have a result. The sample taken from the exterior of the Viper's trunk tested positive for human blood. And the DNA matches the control sample. To a one in six-hundred-and-twenty-three-million degree of certainty.”

Anna knew what that meant. She said it out loud, just to be sure.

“Emily Shapiro's blood was on Dylan Highsmith's car?”

“Yes, ma'am.”

She grimaced. “What about the scarf?”

“Let me see, ma'am. Oh, yes, that's a match too. Epithelial cells on the scarf matched DNA from C-1 to a one in one-point-two-billion degree of certainty.”

The scarf found in Dylan's room was Emily's. Her skin cells were on it.

“While we're at it, do you have results on the alcohol taken from the fraternity's bar?”

“That's another office.” He transferred her. A minute later she was asking another analyst the same question.

“Yes, ma'am. There was one item from your search that tested positive for the presence of Rohypnol. A gallon jug filled with a corn syrup–based red fruit drink.”

Anna thanked the analyst and hung up. Her chest buzzed with the excitement of the new leads, and the horror of what they meant. Jody came down the stairs, still in her pajamas, carrying Leigh. As soon as she saw Anna's face, she said, “What's wrong?”

Anna shook her head, as her phone rang again. Cooper's face flashed on her screen. He'd left at seven
A.M.
to continue his search.

“What's up, Coop?” she answered.

“Anna.” His deep voice was shaky. “We found something.”

“What's going on?”

She could hear him taking a long, slow breath. Then another. The deep breathing was a technique he used when he was particularly upset. His PTSD had been flaring up less frequently, but he was clearly having an episode right now.

“We found a body,” he said.

“Where?”

“Detroit Central Station.”

“Is it Emily?”

“It's a Caucasian woman.” He took a deep breath. “Not all of her.”

“What do you mean? What parts are missing?”

“I—she—Oh God, Anna.”

His voice became a hacking cough. Was he throwing up?

“Coop, is anyone there with you?”

No response.

“Cooper!”

Static. He didn't pick up when she called him back.

• • •

Anna sped through Detroit. She broke several traffic laws, but if she got pulled over, at least she'd have a police escort. As she drove, she called Sam and told her what was going on. “We need Detroit police, the FBI, and a medical examiner. ASAP.” Another broken traffic rule, talking on the phone while driving. Sam said she was on it. Anna got to the train station in seven minutes.

The Michigan Central Station was a massive train depot, built in 1913 by the same architects who designed New York's Grand Central. It had all the grand architecture and rococo flourishes of its cousin, but unlike New York's bustling hub, it was vacant, crumbling, and surrounded by acres of nothing. At the time it was built, the Detroit landmark was the tallest rail station in the world, eighteen stories high. It was abandoned in 1988 and now was a striking mixture of glorious historic architecture and modern ruin. Its entrance was modeled after an ancient Roman bathhouse and featured massive arched windows—now shattered and dark—and tall Doric columns—covered in graffiti.

Anna parked at the curb and got out. The street was silent except for the cry of a single seagull drifting through the clouds. “Cooper?” she called. No one answered. She didn't see signs of any other human beings.

Anna walked up to the front doors, moving quickly but on high alert. Anything could be hiding behind those massive Doric columns or shattered marble walls. She wished she were carrying a gun. Cooper always did, because of his army training and the neighborhood where he lived. Jack had long ago tried to persuade her to carry a gun, but she'd resisted, knowing gun owners were more likely to die as a result of the guns they bought than be protected by them. Besides, she knew that the biggest danger to women was not a stranger breaking in through a window but a friend you let in your front door. Still, walking into the giant empty train station, she wished she had something besides her bare hands to protect herself.

One of the heavy front doors was propped open with a cinder block. Beyond the door, the station was dark and unseeable. She could smell mustiness wafting out. She stepped inside.

It took her eyes a moment to adjust to the dark. When they did, she looked around in wonder. It was a cavernous hall, with three-story-tall arched ceilings. Massive pillars stood beneath giant half-moon windows that no longer held any glass. White tile was molded black in patches, and ornate plasterwork was peeling off, exposing brick below. Anything that could be stolen by scrap-metal thieves had been—chandeliers, brass fixtures, balcony railings, the great clock that once hung over the ticket windows. The things that couldn't be taken—marble walls, soaring pillars—were covered in graffiti. A hole in the ceiling allowed a beam of sunlight to fall on the filthy floor. Dust motes danced in the beam. The overall impression was a classical Greek ruin that had met a modern hell.