Page 78 of The Secrets We Hide
“A romance, a thriller, andFeynman’s Tips on Physics.” Jude started paging through the Feynman. “Was Allison into physics?”
“Not when she was in book club. When it was her turn, she usually chose stories with fairies and vampires.”
“Escapism. Love. Safety. Everything always turns out okay.” Emmy fished a glove out of her pocket and used it to pick up the key ring. Key fob. House key. Dimple key. Barrel key. She pressed the unlock button on the key fob. Outside, the Toyota chirped. She slipped the house key into the deadbolt on the front door. The latch turned.
Jude asked, “Did Sherry track down the other keys?”
“They don’t open anything in the house,” Emmy said. “I know what you’re thinking. The dimple key is for a high-security lock. The barrel key is for a safe. But Taybee told me Allison was barely getting by between her consulting and PI work.”
Jude stacked the books back on the table. “What now?”
Emmy dropped the keys into an evidence bag. “Let’s look at Mandy’s room.”
Jude followed her up the stairs. They both slowed their pace in the hallway. Emmy wasn’t one to believe in ghosts, but there was an eeriness to the house that went beyond her DFR. She could only think about the violence that had happened here. Not just the shooting, but the beatings. Bill chasing Allison into the hall. Fists flying. Hurling invective. Mandy climbing into the attic to escape his wrath.
Emmy said, “I wonder if Allison taught Mandy to go into the attic when things got bad.”
“It would make sense for them to have an agreed-upon safe location.”
Jude walked to the end of the hall. She turned to look at Allison’s room. She was standing near the spot where she’d nearly died. If it bothered her, she didn’t show it. She turned and walked into Mandy’s room.
Emmy made it as far as the doorway. She had been here only a few hours ago, searching for something, anything, that might lead them to a suspect. Emmy had checked all the stuffed animals, looked under the bed, between the mattress and box spring, rifled the drawers, pulled up the rug, peeled the posters from the walls, gone down on her hands and knees and tested every piece of wood in the floor to see if there was a loose section that would reveal a secret hiding place.
Cole had thought she was crazy, but Emmy had been desperate for some kind of clue.
She said, “At the hospital, Mandy remembered that they were leaving. Allison didn’t tell her where they were going, but Mandy knew they had to get away.”
Jude crossed her arms. “She got very agitated when you asked her about it. Fear triggered a physical response.”
Emmy remembered the girl pulling at the restraints around her arms, legs moving as if she was trying to get up from the bed. “When I asked her if they were getting away from Woody, she said no.”
Jude nodded. “She became agitated again when you told her that Talia had mentioned the UnSub.”
Emmy felt her phone vibrate. She read a text from Gregg. “Maybe Skylar Guthrie can fill in some blanks. Her mother says we can come by now. She decided to keep her home from church.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Emmy tapped her fingers on the steering wheel as they drove to Skylar Guthrie’s house. Her mind had cleared since this morning’s wallowing, but she still didn’t know how any of the pieces fit together.
She told Jude, “This feels like it’s big and it’s small at the same time.”
“In what way?”
“All that stuff at the house—the number on the back of the Wyeth print. The stack of library books. The keys. The crime scene. What does it all mean?”
“You tell me.”
Emmy was growing tired of the Socratic method. “If we go back to yesterday, the first thing pointed to domestic violence. The next thing pointed to Woody having a relationship with Mandy. Then Talia pointed to an UnSub who could have been grooming Mandy. Then I had Reggie telling me Dad’s a bad cop who made some evidence go away and you telling me to ignore Reggie and the FBI telling you to look at me over a Giglio list that I’ve never even heard of and might not even exist.”
“All valid things.”
“You keep saying lean horse. Dad used to say make it smaller. If we rule out all the big stuff, like a conspiracy or Woody and the Rawleys and Reggie’s crooked department, my gut tells me that people always murder for personal reasons: jealousy, anger, revenge, fear, money. I feel like I need to find that personal reason.”
“Stop putting the cart before the horse.”
“Stop using horse metaphors.”
“Sweetheart.” Jude turned toward her. “You’re exhausted and frustrated and overthinking everything. Follow the clues. That will lead you to the motive. The motive will lead you to the bad guy. You can be wrong a thousand times in an investigation. All that matters is that you’re right at least once.”
