Page 46 of The Secrets We Hide
“She must be, because I just told her she’s a nasty bitch like our dead mother.”
Hannah was quiet for a beat. Of all people, she knew how much that was out of character for Emmy. “The irony here is that Myrna would’ve probably agreed with you.”
Emmy felt some of the guilt start to ebb. Hannah wasn’t wrong.
“This investigation you’re working on,” Hannah said. “It’s a lot. And you don’t have your dad to talk it out anymore.”
Emmy’s fingers traced the points on the sheriff’s star that was pinned to her chest. She walked back toward the house.
“Your sister’s a hot-shit retired FBI agent. She traveled around the country saving abducted children and caught a serial killer in her free time.”
“Yeah, well, even the sun shines on a dog’s ass occasionally.”
Hannah chuckled, but she wasn’t easily deterred. “The point is, if she wasn’t your sister, you’d be going straight to her for help.”
Emmy had reached the driveway. Jude’s Jeep was still there. The light was on in the kitchen. The woman was either a glutton for punishment or she was waiting to rip off Emmy’s head.
“Look, from everything I know about sisters, it’s like that scene in that movie where you’ve got two men who are mad at each other, and they’ve each got one end of a rope clenched between their teeth, and both of them’ve got bowie knives, and what happens is, one of them has to let go of the rope, or they both have to fight it out to the death.”
Emmy’s lips curved into a grin. “That’s fromThe Long Riders. Mom made us watch it on a snow day while she graded papers.”
“Well, there you go. You can find a rope and some Bowie knives, or you can work it out with Jude.”
She made it sound so easy. “I hate it when she’s right about things.”
“She’s only right because she’s so much older than you.” Emmy smiled at the dig.
“It’s not lost on me that I told you for years to go to therapy, then your prodigal sister shows up and she’s a therapist.”
“Criminal psychologist.”
“You’re never too old to start criming.”
They both went silent. Hannah had skirted too close to reality. “Okay.” Emmy started to hang up, but she caught herself.
“Thank you.”
A moth was beating against the porch light as Emmy climbed the stairs. The screen door made a screeching sound when she opened it. There was a black carry-on suitcase waiting by the door. Emmy felt the wrongness start to edge back into her body. There hadn’t been a moment in the last six weeks when she’d felt happy to have her sister here, but the thought of her leaving filled Emmy with an inexplicable anxiety.
She found Jude leaning back against the kitchen sink. Arms crossed. Lips pursed. Emmy blinked, and she saw Myrna leaning the same way, the exact same look of wariness in her expression. Maybe bowie knives would’ve been easier.
Emmy spoke first. “I shouldn’t have said that about Mom.”
Jude narrowed her eyes, clearly waiting for abutthat ricocheted the blame.
Emmy forced herself not to grip together her hands. “I think Dad was a dirty cop.”
Jude’s expression didn’t change.
“Last year, Jonah was arrested with enough weight to buy him prison time. Allison Vickery made the arrest, had him dead to rights. Dad asked Reggie to make the charges go away, so Reggie had Allison lose the drugs on the way to the lab. The case falling apart destroyed her career. She rode a desk into retirement.”
Jude didn’t move. She stared at Emmy, clearly trying to make a decision.
“At the very least, Dad was involved in a conspiracy to destroy evidence.”
Jude looked away, still lost in the static of uncertainty. Something made her decide to engage. She slowly pulled out a chair. Sat down. Leaned her elbows on the table.
She asked, “Do you believe Reggie’s telling the truth?”
