Earth to Emily Read Free

big and black on the ground, his head in a pool of blood. He wasn’t moving, and the people around him had the hushed mien I’d come to associate with tragedy. I shuddered. Behind his body, a woman peered between the curtains of what looked like the sleeping compartment above a tractor cab whose license plate read TUCK69.
    “Crime scene, ma’am, you need to step back,” a female officer said. She was bundled to her eyeballs with a thick scarf, and she shouted through it to be heard. A roll of yellow tape hung in her hand.
    “What happened?”
    “A man’s been shot.”
    So the noises we heard had been gunshots. “Is he dead?”
    “Afraid so. Now, move along. Give us room to do our jobs.”
    I backed away, still mesmerized by the blood on the new layer of snow in the parking lot.
    “Isn’t that Wallace?” Jack asked, reclaiming my attention.
    I turned, and he pointed back toward the Love’s store. Another crowd had formed there under the shelter of the big-rig gas bay. A tall, lean man with sandy-blond hair stood out among them.
    “It is.”
    Wallace lifted a hand to us as we started walking toward him, then put it on one hip and shook his head, his highlighted hair swinging perfectly over his eyelid. How could he always look so put together, even in the cold and blowing snow, when I looked like the Abominable Snowwoman? I fluffed my bangs, hoping for presentable, and snow fell from them to my face.
    Wallace said, “What took you so long?”
    “We were following the kids,” I told him.
    “You found them?”
    “We did. And lost them again. They’re gone.”
    Something about my words tore at me. I’d lost a baby of my own in October. A miscarriage, and I’d lost my one Fallopian tube, or most of it anyway, at the same time, meaning I was probably barren. Babies. Children. Loss. Thinking about it made time slow down, and as I watched the snow fall I could see every individual flake in the sky around me, suspended almost to the point of not moving. I had to shake it off; I was nearly over it, and I couldn’t let everyone see it still leveled me. I huffed a deep breath, and let it out slowly through my mouth.
    Jack had been standing beside me like a wooden drugstore Indian, but he ended his silence. “She wrecked my Jeep.”
    Wallace turned to him now. “She’s hell on wheels, but I hear she’s much better on horseback.”
    Jack made some kind of noise halfway between a snort and a laugh.
    Wallace introduced a chunky guy with acne and lank hair who had materialized beside him. “This is Byron Philly, you guys. Despite the fact that he looks like a bad episode of
21 Jump Street
, he’s actually a married father of three and a responsible adult.”
    “Nice to meet you, Byron. I’m Emily Bernal, paralegal at Williams and Associates. I work for him.” I hooked my thumb at my boss.
    “Jack Holden.” Jack shook Byron’s hand.
    “Byron Philly. Sorry.” He shook his head, like he was trying to clear it. “We have a newborn at our house and no one is getting to shower or sleep. Nice to meet y’all. Now, which direction did my kids go?”
    I gestured behind us. “Way out across the field.” The snow fell faster, and I could feel the flakes landing on my nose.
    “Could you tell if they were dressed for the weather?”
    I thought back, eyes closed. I’d gotten a good look at Greg. Black watch cap. Faux leather lined aviator jacket. Gloves? I wasn’t sure. As for Farrah, I couldn’t say. She’d blended against the darkness, and by the time she’d appeared, it was her words I had focused on, not her clothes. But even hats, coats, and gloves wouldn’t do much good on a night like this. “Coats and hats. Other than that, I couldn’t say. The weather looks like it’s getting pretty bad.”
    He grimaced. “I’ll update the cops.” Byron walked toward the Love’s entrance and a congregation of men and one woman in blue uniforms.
    I turned to Wallace, who was admiring Jack while Jack picked at a