The Deep End by Ellie Hart

Author:Ellie Hart [Hart, Ellie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-09-25T18:30:00+00:00

MORNING – DAY FIVE

The press is back and it’s tripled in scope. They must think they know something. I drop the window blind back in place and turn to look at Marta. She’s still asleep, starfish style, arms and legs akimbo. No wonder I had a hard time getting any rest last night, I think fondly. Of course, this is only a double bed. At home, we have a king. Size does matter.

I quietly detach my cell phone from its umbilical cord and slip out of the room closing the door softly behind me. I hope no one else is awake. I want at least thirty minutes to myself.

I brew myself a cup of coffee – Elaine’s coffee, but who’s complaining – and head into the front room. I want to stand at the front window and admire the view but I also don’t want to end up on the eight o’clock news. Instead I sit on the couch and get comfortable, keeping my mug of coffee nearby on the low table next to me. Now for a few minutes of uninterrupted web surfing.

The top story on the local news website explains the presence of all the news vans parked outside: the police are going to begin digging in the Butterfield landfill, hoping to locate Tiffany’s body. I quickly scan the article and a section seems to leap put at me.

In an interview with Tiffany Granger’s 15-year-old son Leif, he reportedly told police that he found his mother dead in bed. Leif also said that he was afraid that he would be blamed, so with the help of a friend, he wrapped his mother in a bed sheet and placed her in the garbage container. Police confirmed that blood stains found in the trash can match that of Tiffany Granger. “Finding a body in a landfill will be an enormous task,” said Sergeant Gardner of the Phoenix Police Department. “However, we owe it to Mrs. Granger and to her family to make this attempt.” Workers at the Butterfield Landfill have already cordoned off an area where they estimate the body might be located.

I lay my phone down and reach for my coffee. My stomach, truth be told, is nauseated. Seeing the facts in print have made the entire thing more real to me than all of the previous days’ drama combined. My sister was tossed out like a piece of refuse, something to be added to the tons of garbage in a landfill. The idea is sickening. And if the vultures outside think they’ll get a statement from the family, they’ve got another think coming.

“Hey, you.”

Marta appears in the doorway, hair sticking out at odd angles and sheet marks on her face. She comes over to join me on the couch. I scoot over to make room for her next to me and somehow we both fit. Quite an interesting perception, I think. Two people can lie next to one another on a sofa but have a difficult time sharing a double bed.

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