Detective Shaw had promised to check local hospital records for the wristband and run a regional search for blue delivery vans, but Daniel couldn’t wait any longer. The police operated on protocol; Daniel operated on the raw, open wound of a father’s grief. Saturday morning arrived with a pale, weak light breaking through the eastern sky.
At 5:25 AM, the rusted iron side gate creaked open. The pale young man stepped into the cemetery. He was carrying a heavy black backpack, four gallon-sized plastic jugs of water, and a small metal trowel tucked into his belt. Daniel watched through the binoculars as the young man walked down the grass aisle directly to Emma’s plot.