Jason
The next morning, while Katie was asleep next to me, I crept out of bed and took my laptop into the kitchen. I was irritated with her for bringing that shit up right before she wanted to fall asleep, but I almost felt guilty after having listened to her toss and turn all night. I knew she was pissed off at me, but I couldn’t tell her about Margot now. Not with all this shit going on, and especially not with the discovery of Margot’s fingerprints on that letter from Matthias’s house.
I knew keeping secrets from my wife wasn’t a good thing, but basically I didn’t see another way around it. At least not for the time being.
I made myself some coffee, then hunkered down in the corner seat of my big kitchen table. With shaking fingers, I typed Margot’s name into the search bar at the top of my screen. Pain flashed through my head and I had to close my eyes and look away for a moment; ever since Margot died, I’d always dreamed of finding out that she was still alive. Now that I knew for sure, it was almost like a nightmare had come true instead of a dream. If Margot were alive, if she’d really faked her own death and disappeared…
I swallowed hard. Margot would never have done that. My Margot would have always found a way back to me. We loved each other; we were engaged for Christ’s sake! We were going to spend the rest of our lives together.
I decided if Margot were still alive, she must have been blackmailed or guilted into “dying” somehow. She never would have done this to hurt me; hell, she never would have done anything to hurt me. She was my fiancée, my love.
I made myself open my eyes and look at the search results. They were just as bad as I’d feared.
Horrific Accident Claims Life of Local Beauty! proclaimed one headline. Another was Local Girl Dismembered in Vicious Car Accident!
I let out a sigh and raked my hand through my hair. This was going to be harder than I thought, but I wouldn’t let that get to me. I had to nut up and figure out what was really going on, or else I knew Katie and I would be in danger. Someone was out to get me, and they were using Margot’s death as a way to fuck with me all the more. I couldn’t believe what was going on; I hated thinking about this.
I’ve always been a little weird about death. I didn’t get funerals, because they weren’t for the dead. They were for the people left alive, and the ritual always seemed like a fucking strange one: oh, yeah, let’s dance around this coffin and sing hymns and then lower it into the ground while we’re all wearing black. It didn’t seem like a good way to honor someone’s life, especially Margot’s. Margot would have wanted a party for her funeral; she would have wanted everyone to get drunk and have fun. I could barely even remember her funeral; I’d been in a haze of alcohol. Kenny and Axel had practically had to drag me there, and I barely remembered what the priest said or what people sang. I didn’t even remember what I’d worn.
But Margot’s headstone was something I could see in my mind as soon as I closed my eyes. We’d picked it out for her; it read Beloved Fiancée and Faithful Friend. In that first year after she died, I went to visit her and her grave all the time. I got so used to sitting in that spot in the cemetery, under the trees, and reading aloud that it felt like second nature. After a while, it even felt like Margot was sitting there with me, except the atmosphere of the cemetery was much quieter than anything that she would have really loved. It was peaceful, and it made me feel better. But then some of the guys started telling me that I needed to move on, to do something, anything—fuck a girl, go on a trip— and instead of telling them to fuck off, I stopped visiting the cemetery.
I forced myself to read the first article.
“Margot George, 23, passed away as the result of a vicious automobile crash that happened last night. Authorities say they think she must have lost control of her car and wrapped it around a tree. She was pronounced dead on the scene, her…”
I couldn’t read anymore. I knew what came next: “her body was dismembered by the violent impact of the crash.”
I shuddered. I hated thinking about Margot’s broken, bloody body cut out of car like she was a piece of meat. I wondered if the cops had draped a blanket over her, if anyone had closed her eyes.
The night that she died, I hadn’t found out for several hours. When they told me, her body was already at the hospital, in the morgue. I had to identify her, but I started sobbing so hard when I saw her covered up on the table that they didn’t ask me to actually look at the body.
Now was I thinking that had probably been a mistake.
“Damnit, Margot, why did you have to die?” I muttered under my breath as I stared at the ceiling. “This isn’t fair, baby, you know I’m not good at being alone.”
“Jason?” I heard Katie’s voice coming from the hallway. “Are you out here? Who are you talking to?”
I sighed. “No one,” I said. “Just myself. What’s up? Can’t you sleep?”
Katie slid into the seat across from me. “I’m bored, Jason,” she complained. “I want to go on a walk today.”
I shook my head. “No dice, sorry,” I told her. “Not unless Kenny goes with you.”
Katie frowned. “I don’t want him coming with me,” she said. “Don’t you think that would just draw more attention to me?”
“Your ex is a twisted fuck, Katie,” I told her sternly. “You’re not leaving.”
Katie pouted. Then she seemed to change tactics, rolling her hips in the chair and making a sexy face at me. “Well, can you take me out?”
“Sorry,” I said quickly, slamming my laptop shut. “I have some shit to do. I’m calling Kenny; he’ll be over here in a couple of minutes.”
I didn’t wait for Katie to respond as I got up from the table with my computer and headed into the bedroom to change. She didn’t follow me; I heard her footfall pacing around the kitchen and making tea.
Tossing my laptop in a bag, I pulled on yesterday’s jeans and a clean button-down shirt. I took a deep breath and walked out of the house, throwing my laptop in the backseat of my car and climbing behind the wheel.
It only took twenty minutes before I reached Marquette Memorial Hospital, on the outskirts of town. I swallowed hard. I’d avoided this place for almost ten years, since that fateful night where I sat in the morgue and sobbed on Kenny’s shoulder. This was the place that had truly broken my heart, this was the place that had truly ruined me forever.
“Hi,” a smiling secretary chirped at me. She was young, which was good, and cute, which was even better.
I winked at her. “What’s a pretty girl like you doin’ inside here today, sweetheart?”
She blushed and looked down. Bingo. “I don’t know,” she said with a giggle. “I’m working, I guess.”
I leaned over the counter and glanced down at the antiseptic piles of paperwork and meaningless corporate kitsch. “Do you think you’d be able to help me out with something that’s real important?”
She blinked. “I don’t know,” she said. There was a trace of fear and nervousness in her voice. “What is it?”
“Relax,” I told her. “I promise I won’t ask anything that could get you in trouble. How long have you been working here?”
The girl bit her lip and glanced at the wall. She was definitely young—younger than Katie, to be sure, maybe even twenty-one or twenty-two. She had blonde hair tied back in a long braid and big green eyes with high cheekbones.
“Um, about a year,” she said softly. “Why? Is that important?”
I grinned at her, my most heartbreaking smile. I saved it for instances like this, and rarely got a chance to use it anywhere else. “It’s not that important,” I assured her. “I’m just looking for someone.” I let out a long sigh and allowed myself to look sad once again. “Someone who died a few years ago.”
The girl gasped. Her nametag read Mickie. “Oh my god. That’s horrible!”
I nodded sagely. “I know it is, Mickie,” I replied. A quick glance up told me that the girl was blushing. Excellent.
“What can I do to help?”
“Well, just being here with you is making me feel a little better,” I lied. “But I’m really trying to find out what happened to this girl I loved,” I added. “Her name was Margot George.”
The girl shook her head slowly. “I’m afraid I don’t understand,” she said in the same soft lilt. “What is it that you need?”
I put my hands on the counter and looked deeply into her eyes. “Look, Mickie, I’m gonna level with you,” I said softly. “I was deeply, deeply in love with Margot. She was my moon and my stars, and I loved her more than life itself.”
Mickie’s eyes went wide and her jaw dropped slightly open. I could practically read her mind: Wow, I wish I had a guy who loved me like that.
“And I can’t find out what happened to her,” I said softly. “She was in a car accident that dismembered her,” I added. “And I think she was taken here or, rather, her remains were taken here. Is there any way you could possibly look her up in the system and let me know what you find?”
Mickie sighed. “I’m afraid I can’t do that,” she said. She reached over and put a small, pale hand over of mine. “Would you like me to call the chaplain for you? Father Rosen is on duty, he’s a very good listener.”
I shook my head. “No, Mickie, I’m afraid I can’t confess my heart to more than one person today,” I added, giving her a sad half smile. “And you’re sure there’s no way?” Without waiting for Mickie to answer, I let out another sigh. “Margot was just so perfect,” I added. “So beautiful, you know she actually looked a little bit like you?” I blinked and wiped at my dry eyes. I wasn’t really going to cry today—I’d done all my crying years ago—but I knew I had to be convincing.
Mickie seemed to hesitate. “Maybe I could look,” she said softly. “Give me one second.” I watched her intent face as she typed something into the keyboard, then frowned. “Sometimes our older records archive,” she said softly. “I’m not finding Margot’s name.”
“George,” I repeated, spelling it out for her. “And her first name is Margot, with a t.’”
There was a long silence, punctuated by the clatter of keys, and finally Mickie gazed up at me. “There’s no record, sir, I’m sorry.”
I clapped a hand over my face and swallowed hard. “Please,” I said again, my voice breaking with the strain of emotion. “Please look, just one more time. Please!”
Mickie reached out and patted my head; I wanted to slap her away but I made myself resist the urge. Panic and anxiety were building in my head and I couldn’t make sense of what was happening. Why was there no record of Margot’s body in the hospital? I’d been here! I’d fucking seen her under that sheet.
“I’ve looked in the archives,” Mickie said softly. She met my eyes with her own green orbs. “And I can’t find any record of a Margot, not even just by the first name and last initial. It’s not a very common name, so I think she would have come up by now…”
I curled my hands into fists and shoved them in my pockets. Before, I’d been faking emotion but now I was feeling all too much like I was going to have a panic attack. I couldn’t believe this. What exactly was going on?
“Please look again,” I begged. “Please, just one more time.”
There was silence while Mickie typed in the required letters slowly. I watched her fingers move across the keys—she spelled Margot’s name perfectly. I was all too afraid of her sympathetic gaze meeting my own once it was over.
“Sir, I’m sorry,” Mickie said in her same soft voice. “I didn’t find any record of a Margot.” She glanced up into my eyes. “Are you sure it was this hospital?”
When I left the hospital, I kicked open the doors and stormed out to my car. People were glancing at me in confusion, like it was unusual for angry men dressed in black to storm out of a county hospital. I wanted to scream at them to fuck off, to scream at the fucking universe itself. This wasn’t just an ordinary day for me; this was a day that was threatening to pull my world apart. No record of Margot’s body, no record of Margot’s death. What the fuck did that mean?
Sitting behind the wheel, I laid my forehead down on the smooth leather. “God damn it,” I mumbled to myself. “What the fuck am I supposed to do now?”