Page 101 of The Secrets We Hide
Taybee tapped the pedal twice before punching it on the third go. The golf cart bolted up the driveway. Taybee’s phone was out before she reached the first bend. She was not a woman who could tolerate silence.
Emmy resisted the urge to look at Facebook. She climbed thestairs. Bill Garrison was covered in debt, barely getting by, abusing Allison, pissing off the Rawleys. He was an unflushable turd. Every time she moved him down her list, he came floating back to the top.
Her phone vibrated with a call as she was reaching for the door latch. Emmy saw the name of Mandy’s neurosurgeon on the screen.
She answered, “Dr. Cody, thank you for returning my call.”
“Sheriff,” he said. “I’m about to go into surgery, but I wanted to talk to you about Mandy.”
Emmy let her hand fall away from the latch. “Okay.”
“There was tattooing around the entry wound. Do you know what that means?”
“Yes.”
Tattooing referred to the dark, dotted marks around an entry wound that were created by partially burned gunpowder particles embedding into the skin. From a forensic standpoint, tattooing indicated that the muzzle-to-skin distance was under forty-eight inches when the gun was fired. Mandy’s entry wound was on the left side of her forehead. The exit wound was just behind her left ear.
The girl was looking directly at the killer when he shot her.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Jude tuned out Millie’s pointed barbs as she scooped chicken casserole onto a plate. Through the front windows, she could see Emmy pacing the porch with her phone to her ear. Her head was down. Her hand was clenched. The conversation looked tense.
“Are you listening to me?” Millie demanded.
“I’m trying not to,” Jude admitted.
“Smart-ass.”
The moment Taybee had left with her soup pot, Millie had unleashed a tirade against Jude for her presence in the house, in North Falls, in Emmy’s life. Jude had decided the only way to maintain her sanity was to ignore her.
She could’ve easily told Millie that there was no need for a lecture. The ride over had given Jude the opportunity to think about what Emmy had told her on the bench outside the flower shop.
You don’t owe me anything. You never wronged me.
Jude knew when she finally told the truth, Emmy would remember the exchange. All of the ease and companionship that had followed would suddenly feel like betrayal. The consequences of Jude’s deceit would only keep compounding. Her brilliant child had already figured out something was off. In the quiet moments, when the case reached a lull or hopefully was solved, Emmy would put together the pieces.
And she would be furious.
“Why aren’t you answering me?” Millie demanded. “When are you going back home?”
Jude shrugged. “No idea.”
“Don’t you have a house to look after?”
“Condo.”
“You’re too young to retire. I know you can’t afford it. Don’t you need a job?”
Jude sighed. She said what she hoped would eventually be true. “I’ll be okay.”
“What about that car you’re renting? How much does that cost?”
“Millie.” Emmy was standing in the doorway. “Why don’t you let her borrow your Cadillac?”
Jude couldn’t stop the laugh that came out of her mouth. Then she saw the expression on Emmy’s face. She could tell the phone call on the porch had troubled her. She raised an eyebrow, but Emmy shook her head. She didn’t want to talk about it in front of Millie.
“Young lady.” Millie’s face twisted into a scowl as she directed her antagonism toward Emmy. “Have you seen the nonsense folks are saying on the computer? Some peabrain suggested you and Brett take turns being sheriff. They only ever do that when a woman is beating a man. They never tell men to share when they’re winning.”
