Page 91 of The Secrets We Hide
Now they were both smiling. It was the first time they’d shared a positive memory about Myrna together.
Emmy said, “The point is, I feel like Allison left me some clues in case something bad happened. Does that sound crazy?”
“It sounds smart,” Jude said. “There were probably very few moments during her relationship with Bill that she didn’t feel at some level like she might be killed. It’s not unheard-of for abused women to write letters or send emails in case they’re murdered so that their abuser is brought to justice.”
Emmy’s phone came out again. The screen glowed with a call. She looked confused. “That’s Tommy. He never calls me.”
Jude watched Emmy disappear into a study room. She randomly pulled one of the other Feynman books and scanned the page for other works.The Character of Physical Law.Six Easy Pieces.Six Not-So-Easy Pieces.Surely You’re Joking, Mr. Feynman!
Some of those titles sounded like they belonged in Essays or Non-fiction. Jude motioned to Emmy that she was going to look in another section. She searched along the rows. Jude had been raised on the Dewey Decimal system. The last time she’d used this library, there had been a card catalogue system overseen by a librarian whose mission in life was to interrogate children on their reading choices. Tommy had called her Mrs. Kravitz after the nosy, high-strung neighbor fromBewitched.
She scanned the signs on the endcaps. Jude was so preoccupied that she nearly ran into one of the patrons, a man who smelled like cigarette smoke and was carrying a stack of books. He turned sideways to let her pass.
“Ma’am.”
Jude nodded her thanks. She took a chance and detoured into the Humor section, since the wordjokingwas in one of the Feynman titles. The book was on another dusty shelf. She opened the cover. Jude actually did a double take because she had assumed this was a fool’s errand. The familiar, crisp handwriting was in a green marker. Allison had written down the same number in the book that Emmy had found on the back of the Wyeth print hanging in Allison’s foyer.
2002.
“Sorry.” Emmy walked up the aisle. “Tommy wants me to go fishing with him when the case is over.”
Jude knew there was more to the call than that. She’d texted Tommy about Lee. Emmy had been effectively raised as an only child. She wasn’t familiar with the machinations of siblings. “That’s nice.”
“That’s weird.” Emmy nodded toward the book. “What’s up?”
Jude showed her the numbers. “You were right. Allison left you clues.”
“Youwere right.” Emmy took the book. “I didn’t think it meant anything.”
“She knew you would rememberChristina’s Worldfrom book club. And if you didn’t, she hoped you would find the Feynman book here. What happened in 2002?”
Emmy flipped through the pages. “I was pregnant with Cole half the year. Allison and I were both working patrol. I still didn’t know her that well. I was drowning. Jonah couldn’t hold down a job. I kept taking extra shifts. If I wasn’t throwing up on the side of the road, I was writing speeding tickets in between studying for my college midterms.”
Jude tried to swallow her guilt. She could’ve helped. “We could look up the year on the internet, narrow it down to events in Clifton County.”
“Let’s ask the librarian. They usually know more than Google.”
The gray-haired woman at the circulation desk was not Mrs. Kravitz, but she was younger than Jude, which hurt almost as much.
Emmy said, “Hey, Barbara.”
“Hey, girl, you ready for the debate?”
“Yep.” The question had clearly thrown Emmy. “Did Allison leave something for me?”
“No, why? Was she supposed to? Is this about Bill?”
Emmy placedSurely You’re Joking, Mr. Feynman!on the counter. “Did she ever check this out?”
“I don’t think that’s the one she liked.” Barbara started typing on the keyboard under the counter. She turned the monitor so they could see. “Feynman’s Tips on Physicswas her favorite.”
Jude put on her glasses. Allison’s lending history had ebbed and flowed, but she’d first checked outFeynman’s Tipstwo months ago, and she’d rechecked it every two weeks since then.
Emmy asked, “Is this a comprehensive list of all the books she borrowed?”
“Yeah, you can’t check out microfiche.”
Emmy’s eyes narrowed. “What microfiche?”
