Page 80 of The Secrets We Hide
“It’s Skylar.” The girl looked up from her phone. Her tone had been as pointed as her mother’s, but Emmy could see the sadness in her eyes. The phone had tilted down. She’d been watching a video of Mandy.
“Skylar,” Emmy said, “this is Dr. Archer. She’s a psychologist, but don’t hold that against her.”
Jude smiled. “Hi.”
Skylar didn’t smile back. She looked at her mother. “You don’t have to hang around. I can do this on my own.”
“Absolutely not,” Pam said. “How many times have I told you never talk to a police officer without a lawyer present?”
“I’m not a suspect.”
“No one ever thinks they are.”
“Okay.” Emmy needed to break some of this tension. “Skylar, I’d actually like your mom to stick around. You both know Mandy. Maybe you can jog each other’s memories about some things.”
Skylar rolled her eyes, but she rested her phone in her lap, which was a small victory.
Emmy asked, “How long have you known Mandy?”
Skylar shrugged. She was still in defiant mode. “Since first grade.”
“Did you have Ms. Collier or Ms. Kellerman?”
Pam snapped, “Hannah’s last name was Dalrymple back then. Surely, you remember.”
Emmy could feel Jude making one of her therapy notations over the slip-up. “Okay, you met Mandy in Ms. Dalrymple’s class?”
Skylar nodded.
This was going great. Six more hours and Emmy would have the girl eating out of her hand. She sat down in the other swing, adjusted her gun holster so it didn’t impale her leg. “I met Ms. Dalrymple when we were both in kindergarten. She used to have a swing set like this in her backyard.”
Skylar gave her a curious glance. Most kids assumed their teachers had been grown in labs underneath their school.
“That’s the only reason I was her friend.” Emmy shrugged at Skylar’s next glance. “In the beginning, anyway. Her mom worked at the Good Dollar, so she had all the exotic snacks at home. Funyuns. Warheads. Fruit Roll-Ups with tongue tattoos.”
Skylar finally looked at her. “What kind of tattoos?”
Emmy felt a flood of relief to have the girl’s attention. “So, you know what a Fruit Roll-Up is?”
“I mean, does anybody know what itactuallyis?”
Emmy smiled. There was the sarcastic girl from Mandy’svideos. “Some of the Roll-Ups have patterns or cartoons on them. You press it to your tongue and the tattoo transfers. Then you stick out your tongue to show it to your friends.”
“Like a temporary tattoo.”
“Exactly,” Emmy said. “Anyway, my mother refused to buy them. She was a teacher, too. She told me kids don’t need a reason to go around sticking out their tongues.”
Skylar grimaced. “It’s kind of gross. Girls sticking out their tongues.”
“You’re right.” Emmy hadn’t looked at it that way before, but she imagined that Myrna probably had. “Skylar, I really need to talk to you about Mandy.”
Skylar’s gaze went back to her phone, but not in defiance. The screen stayed black. She twisted the phone in her hands. Emmy watched tears well in her eyes. Pam hadn’t asked about Mandy, but it struck Emmy as odd that Skylar’s first instinct was to complain about her mother instead of asking if her friend was okay. Talia had said the two girls had a falling-out recently. Maybe there had been more to it than that.
Emmy asked, “Was something going on between you two?”
Skylar didn’t respond, but her expression gave her away.
Emmy checked in with Pam, who’d gone as silent as her daughter. The woman had spent most of her adult life anticipating the meaning behind every question. She was clearly suspicious of every word that was coming out of Emmy’s mouth.
