Page 12 of The Secrets We Hide
“Did Allison say anything to you about why?”
“Not a peep, but she’s always been the quiet type. Likes to handle her own problems.”
Emmy knew.
“Honey, I know your mama’s funeral was today. I won’t say we got along. Lord knows Myrna was prickly. But what I mean to say is that I know you’ll figure out what happened over there. She raised you to be an incredibly intelligent and considerate young woman.” Her eyes shifted past Emmy’s shoulder. “Clearly, she learned from her mistakes.”
Emmy followed her pointed gaze. Jude was making her way up the driveway.
Emmy turned back to Coach Bell. “Have you seen anybody in the neighborhood recently who doesn’t belong?”
“I would’ve called you immediately.”
Emmy knew that was true. “Thank you, ma’am. Do you mind if I borrow your hose?”
“Just roll it back up when you’re finished.”
Coach Bell glared at Jude before slamming the window closed. There was no telling what that was about. Jude had burned a lot of bridges when she’d left town. Some of them were still smoldering forty-plus years later.
Emmy tossed her clean uniform shirt over the porch railing. Went to the hose reel. Turned on the spigot.
Jude asked, “Did she see anything?”
“She’s really old. Her eyesight is bad.”
“Old?” Jude scoffed. “She was two years ahead of me in high school.”
Emmy splashed cold water into her face, used her fingers to try to comb out the grime in her hair. “I can handle Brett. I don’t need my big sister threatening to beat him up behind the school cafeteria.”
“Understood. Are you okay?”
Emmy directed the stream of water at her bloodstained feet. “You used the shotgun instead of the Glock to clear the house.”
Emmy handed Jude the hose. Grabbed her shirt off the railing.
“Shotguns have a wide pellet spread. Firing one inside a confined area risks killing the people you’re trying to save.” Jude was back in lecturer mode like she was teaching a lesson at Quantico. “Handguns are more precise and maneuverable, but only if you can stop your hands shaking long enough to aim.”
Emmy’s hands were perfectly fine as she buttoned her shirt. “You told me I should’ve had Cole backing me up. What about you? You slipped up the stairs without tellingmeto backyouup.”
Jude shrugged. “You’re right.”
Emmy didn’t have time to sneeze into another windstorm. “Wind the hose back on the reel when you’re finished.”
She waved her thanks to Coach Bell before walking down the driveway. Emmy flexed her fingers to keep them from curling into fists again. Her muscles ached from holding on to so muchtension. Her head was pounding. The soles of her feet felt bruised. Water was wicking into the back of her shirt from her wet hair. The heat was probably going to sour it, but she didn’t have time to go home and take a shower. Two of her deputies were already straggling out of the woods. Julian Vanderbilt and Levi McGuire looked sweaty and miserable. Emmy straightened her shoulders, pretended like she was fine in her own body, that her mother wasn’t lying in a freshly dug grave, and that her sister wasn’t irritating the shit out of her.
“Hey.” Sherry was leaning against the back of her government ride. She nodded to a pair of beat-up HOKAs on the wide bumper. “Had these in my gym bag.”
“Thank you.” The shoes fit more like slippers, but they were better than going barefoot. “Brett brought you up to speed?”
“Allison.”
Emmy saw her own guilt and grief mirrored in Sherry’s expression. There wasn’t a lot of female law enforcement in the area. They were a tight club. At least they tried to be.
“What about Mandy?”
Emmy smoothed together her lips. “They shocked her half a dozen times to get her back.”
Sherry needed a moment to let the information settle. “I’m real sorry about your mother.”
