Page 98 of The Secrets We Hide
Emmy turned onto Millie’s meandering driveway. She didn’t know what to make of this information. “Anything else?”
“I’ve got my A/V techs analyzing that doorbell camera footage Cole sent. You should have that back in a few hours. We’re almost finished at Allison’s house. We still haven’t found the fifth shell casing or the bullet from Mandy’s exit wound. I’ll keep overseeing the work, but I’m being pulled onto a priority case in North Georgia. Biker gang brought in some bad fentanyl and they’ve got bodies piling up in the morgue.”
Emmy winced. She knew what that felt like. “Good luck. Thanks.”
Jude didn’t speak after the call ended. Neither did Emmy. This wasn’t companionable silence or viselike tension. They both clearly needed a minute to consider the implications of what they’d just heard.
Emmy parked between Cole’s cruiser and a dark red golf cart. She pushed the gear into park. She was still too stunned to get out. “Allison’s been sitting on that cash for longer than Cole’s been alive.”
“Does she have family money?”
“She was broke when I met her. We both brown-bagged it on patrol.” Emmy was baffled. “All those years, she was sitting on three hundred thousand dollars in cash. She had it before she met Bill. She had it every time she told me she couldn’t leave him because she couldn’t afford a divorce, or that she was worried Mandy wouldn’t have a roof over her head.”
“Not to venture into a lecture, but the psychologist in me would tell you that victim pathologies are complicated.”
“The investigator in me would tell you Allison didn’t spend the money because it didn’t belong to her.”
Jude started to nod. “Who was she holding it for?”
“Someone who scared the shit out of her.”
“Someone so bad that she needed witness protection.”
“Yoo-hoo!” Taybee opened the door to the cruiser before Emmy could. “Kaitlynn agreed to try Aunt Millie’s Overdue Stew. She’s gonna lose her mind if the baby doesn’t come soon. Poor thing’s hurting from her hooter to her tooter.”
Emmy felt like she’d been sucked into a tornado. She tried to identify the debris swirling around her. Taybee’s daughter was a week from her due date. She hadn’t been able to attend Myrna’s funeral.
Taybee asked, “The stew worked when you were pregnant with Cole, right?”
“Yep.” Emmy left out the twelve hours of screaming shits. “He was born the next day.”
“Why’re all y’all in my front yard?” Millie had lurched onto her front porch in a faded housedress with rollers in her hair. Cole held on to her arm to keep her from teetering. “I didn’t ask for visitors. Especially you.”
Jude had been walking toward the steps, but she froze when Millie singled her out.
“Hush up, you old cranky pants.” Taybee started up the stairs. “I need your recipe for Kaitlynn. Bless her heart, she’d slap the Pope and ride the Devil if it got that baby delivered.”
Millie scowled at Jude before retreating into the house. Cole slowly came down the stairs. He asked Jude, “What’s Millie’s problem with you?”
Emmy saved Jude the deflection. “She was in a car accident that was so bad the entire town banned dancing and rock ’n’ roll music.”
“Seriously?” Cole looked at Jude. “If it helps, they’re both allowed now.”
Jude laughed. “Sweetheart, we’re going to watchFootloosenext weekend. You’re going to love it.”
Emmy watched Jude squeeze his arm as she passed him on the stairs. Emmy guessed this was what it was really like havingan older sister—not Hannah’s version with ropes clenched between their teeth, but holding on to a pendulum and waiting for it to swing.
“Okay.” Emmy turned her attention to her son, whose collar was sticking out from his duty vest. “What’s happening here? I put you on patrol.”
Cole walked around to the back of his cruiser. He popped the trunk.
Her first instinct was to lecture him about all the crap rolling around free. His first aid kit wasn’t strapped down, and his gym bag had spilled because he didn’t know how to close a zipper.
Then she saw the camera in an evidence bag.
The Canon EOS C had a telephoto lens on it that stretched the whole thing out about eight inches. Emmy picked it up, felt the weight of it in her hand.
Cole said, “I put out a BOLO on a camera with a telephoto lens. Figured Allison was using one for her PI work. Sherry didn’t list one in her inventory.”
