Page 27 of Born Wicked

“How can I help you?” she asks. Her tone is to the point, but not unkind.

“I was told to ask for Mark,” I state, feeling uneasy. I’ve only been in this police station twice, but both times I thought I was going to be arrested. Only one time did I end up in juvenile detention for seven days.

“He’s out sick today,” she says as she stacks one binder on top of another. “But I can help you. He’s retiring in a few months, and I’m his replacement.”

“Oh, okay,” I say, surprised, hoping we can still get what we need.

“We’re trying to track down a Jane Doe,” Jon pipes up. His voice is filled with determination and hope. “She was my girlfriend. We’d been separated when she was killed.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” the woman, whose name tag reads as Officer Jacobs, answers genuinely. “What was the date?”

I rattle it off to her.

“Give me just a second,” she says. Officer Jacobs disappears between stacks of shelves, diving deep into the archives. We hear her rustling around, out of view, for about two minutes, and finally, she comes wandering back with a binder in hand.

“We haven’t gotten to digitizing this far back, but thankfully the records are all in good shape,” she says as she lays the binder down on the counter. She looks up at Jon, a crease forming between her brows. “You say you were her boyfriend?”

“Yes ma’am,” Jon answers.

“Damn,” she says. “You should share your diet, exercise routine, and skin care regimen with the whole world.”

Jon offers the briefest, smallest of smiles. Little does this woman know that Jon looks exactly the same now as he did when he and Ingrid were together.

“Let’s take a look,” she says as she opens the binder and begins flipping through reports. “October. September. Here we go, August.”

More slowly now, she begins thumbing through the pages of documents. It feels like it’s taking forever and going way too fast at the same time.

“Alright, here we are,” she says. “Jane and Baby Doe, called in at 4:16 AM. Woman with blonde hair, medium height, average build. Baby was said to be only hours old. Shit.”

“Juliet Doe,” I say, feeling all of my insides twisting. “Nice to meet you.”

“Are you for real?” the woman gapes in shock. “You’re Baby Doe? And… father?” Once again, she seems doubtful about Jon.

“Wish things weren’t this way,” Jon says. The look in his eyes says he wants to get this over with, and I couldn’t agree more.

“Again, I am so sorry,” she says sympathetically. “How can I help you?”

“Since we only recently found out what happened to Ingrid, we just wanted to get some closure,” Jon says. “Juliet called here two months ago and was told the Jane Doe was buried at Peace Grove Cemetery.”

“But we just combed the entire place and there are no open spaces,” I fill in. “I guess it was Mark who I talked to before, but he said she wouldn’t have a headstone. So, I’m thinking there was a mistake, and she’s in a different cemetery.”

“Let’s take a look,” Officer Jacobs says, her tone shifting at the weight of this conversation. She flips through the multiple pages from the report. I’m so damn curious to study every word. To know all the details, even though it’s unnecessary. I’ve seenevery second of that horrible day.

“Yep, says here she was buried in Peace Grove Cemetery,” she reports, her tone a little confused. She turns the page, studying all of the handwritten notes, the legal-looking jargon that makes no sense to me. “I don’t—”

My heart jumps into my throat when she cuts herself off, reading a note written at the very bottom of the page.

“I’m so sorry,” Officer Jacobs says with a sigh. “This note…. It says that they thought they had a plot secured for her. They transported her there and everything, but when they arrived, they realized there was a mix-up. The last few open plots had been purchased a few months earlier by some people who already had family members buried there.”

“So, where did they move her to instead?” I ask, feeling a little desperate, a lot panicked.

And it feels like the world cracks a little when Officer Jacobs looks back up at me. “It says she was cremated after that.”

Ashes. Dust.

Once upon a time, Roman and I killed Archer King. The man had already been brought back from bones once. We wouldn’t risk that happening again. We cremated his body, and I dumped those ashes in Lake Michigan.

“Were…” Jon struggles to speak around a tight throat in a hoarse voice. “Were her ashes saved?”