Page 102 of The Secrets We Hide
Emmy busied herself straightening the placemats on the kitchen table.
“Millie,” Jude said, “are you turning into a feminist?”
“Don’t be disgusting. I just want women to have a fair shot.”
Jude kept her mouth shut as she took the plate out of the microwave and placed it in front of Emmy. “Sit down. You can eat while Millie answers your questions.”
Emmy looked at Millie, but for once, the old battleax had Jude’s back.
After a long sigh, Emmy sat down, snatched up the fork. “We’re looking for an incident that took place in North Falls in 2002.”
Millie’s hands jabbed into her bony hips. “Well, there was that terrible snowstorm in January. We had six inches here. Ace was supposed to bring me groceries, but his truck got caught in a drift. Had to shovel it out with his hands. The storm went all the way up to Atlanta and over to Athens.”
Jude leaned against the counter. “I think we can exclude weather events.”
Millie glared at her. Then she looked back at Emmy. “You found out you were pregnant with Cole in June. Then you took that hard tumble down the stairs. Doctors put you on bed rest. You couldn’t make it to Ruel’s funeral. Same as Kaitlynn yesterday, come to think on it.”
“Ruel?” Jude asked. “Taybee’s father?”
“You knowexactlywho Ruel Clifton is.” Millie cut her with a look. “Poor man was out fishing on the Flint and his waders filled up with water. Dragged him down to the bottom. Drowned to death all on his lonesome.”
Millie’s expression suddenly softened. They were both thinking about Henry. He’d disappeared into the Flint and his body hadn’t been found until a week later. It wasn’t lost on Jude that Myrna had claimed Emmy as her own fewer than two years later.
Emmy was oblivious to their silent exchange. She was thinking about 2002. “I’d forgotten all that happened in the same year. That’s a weird coincidence.”
“Why is it weird?” Millie asked. “Because of the trial?”
Jude felt like she was watching a tennis match. Her head snapped back toward Millie.
“What trial?”
“Evelyn Gilchrist,” Millie said, as if everyone knew. “Hold on a minute. I’ve got the newspaper stories in my files. There’s Blue Bunny in the ice box. Both of you girls are too skinny.”
Jude’s head swung back to Emmy. “Do you remember the trial she’s talking about?”
“Sort of?” she sounded unsure. “There was a break-in at the Gilchrist farm. Evelyn, Ezekial Gilchrist’s wife, was home. She walked in on the burglar. There was a fight. She ended up getting shot. They couldn’t get a helicopter to land because of the weather. She died in the ambulance on the way to Atlanta. That’s why Ezekial funded the trauma center in her name.”
Jude asked, “How is the district attorney related to him?”
“Dexter is Evelyn and Ezekial’s grandson. They don’t talk, though. Ezekial wrote him out of the will.”
Millie said, “’Cause Dexter married a black woman.”
She was struggling under the weight of a cardboard box that looked bigger than she was. Jude tried to help but she pulled away, plopping the heavy box on the table. There were labels on the top and all four sides because Taybee wasn’t the first Clifton with OCD. Jude recognized Millie’s Palmer Method handwriting, which was almost identical to Myrna’s.
NORTH FALLS REGISTER 2002 BOX 4 OF 8
Millie said, “Zeek’s never even met his grandchildren. Not a big loss for the kids if you ask me. Zeek’s always been an ass. Your father hated him.”
Jude tried not to balk. Millie had looked directly at Jude when she’d saidyour father. “Why did Dad hate him?”
“Because Gerald refused to arrest the prime suspect in Evelyn’s murder. Said there wasn’t enough evidence. Zeek tried to get Gerald recalled, but there are more people in this town named Clifton than there are named Gilchrist. Such as it ever was.” Millie opened the box. Started rifling through neatly labelled, thick folders with precisely folded newspapers inside. They were so crisp she must have ironed them. “The story was front-page news for months. Even made the Atlanta papers.”
Emmy rinsed her plate in the sink. “How was there a trial if Dad didn’t make an arrest?”
“Chief Kitteridge arrested the man. Now there was an arrogant so-and-so. Always chomping on a smelly cigar. Died of lung cancer. Emmy, you remember Alfonse Kitteridge. He had the job before Reggie. The Clayville Police Department has always punched above its weight.”
Jude exchanged another look with Emmy. Clayville again. The coincidences were adding up. “Who was the suspect?”
