Page 152 of The Secrets We Hide
“Thank you for being here tonight. I’m Sheriff Emmy Clifton.”
Her throat started to strangle. She flipped to the next card. The stupid joke she’d written felt even more stupid with a crowd.
“You might recognize my name from every other street in town.”
There was a hoot of laughter from the back. God bless Hannah.
Emmy shuffled the cards. This was excruciating. She nixed the next line. Then the next. None of it felt right. She looked back up at the audience. Her gaze settled on Jude. The crinkles around her eyes showed when she smiled.
“Okay.” Emmy stacked together the cards. It was time to put everybody out of their misery. “You know who I am. Vote for me or don’t. I’ve got work to do.”
She grabbed her cane and walked off the stage.
FIVE DAYS LATER
Jude sat at a booth in the back of a truck stop outside of Albany. She cupped her hands to her coffee mug to warm them. The temperature had dropped into the forties. Dark clouds thundered in the sky. Rain lashed the windows. The decor in the restaurant felt sticky and sad. It reminded Jude of the seedy strip clubs alcoholics flock to after the bars close.
She looked across the room. There was only one other customer. Like Jude, he’d taken a booth in a far back corner. His head was bent over his phone. His reading glasses were hot pink, probably borrowed from a wife or girlfriend.
The bell over the door chimed. Two men walked in looking miserable and hungover. They slouched onto barstools. Signaled for coffee.
She looked down at her mug, filled with gratitude for her sobriety.
A clash of thunder shook the window. Jude looked out into the parking lot. The rain was coming down so hard that her Jeep shuddered on its chassis. She had left Emmy at the hospital to visit with Mandy. The girl had a hard road ahead of her. Emmy was determined to make sure she wasn’t alone.
As terrible as the revelation about Allison’s murder had been, there was a new lightness to Emmy. She had laughed this morning when Cole had accidentally spilled orange juice all over his new textbooks. Her friendship with Hannah was finally mending. Her long silences didn’t feel so pained anymore. She could walk into the kitchen without her eyes searching forMyrna in her chair. Her irritation no longer burned as brightly around Jude.
But she hadn’t yet told Jude that she was ready to talk. In fact, she had studiously avoided the subject. Celia had warned Jude that it was a mistake to let Emmy decide. Cliftons were not known for embracing difficult conversations. Leaving the ball in Emmy’s court was like playing badminton with a rock.
The bell chimed again. A young man with a high and tight haircut walked in. He wasn’t wearing a suit, but Reid Foley still looked like an insurance broker. He unzipped his jacket. Shook off the rain. Walked over to Jude.
“Dr. Archer?”
Jude motioned for him to sit. He was in jeans and a sweater. She hoped it was a good sign that he’d exchanged the leather derbies for Timberlands, and not because of the bad weather.
Foley asked, “Your sister doing okay?”
“She’s well, thank you.” Jude got down to business, because Foley was already taking more risks than he should. She slid over an index card with an address.
Foley stared at the card but didn’t take it. “Excuse me for being blunt, ma’am, but you know this is going to fuck over your sister’s ex-husband.”
“I do.”
Foley still didn’t take the card. He knew Jonah Lang wasn’t the only target. Jude was also fucking over Assistant Director Samuel Callaghan.
Samuel might’ve had a United States senator in his pocket, but Jude had the alphabet.
The DEA is primarily tasked with drug trafficking investigations. The ATF, among other things, enforces laws concerning the sale of alcohol. The TTB is responsible for ensuring all tax is paid on those sales. HSI handles human trafficking. The FBI goes after illegal gambling.
Jude’s friends at the US Marshals Service had all the cool toys, but they also possessed a legal power that no other agency shared: they could deputize individuals, including fellow law enforcement, to perform the services of the USMS, which could rangefrom protecting federal judges to assisting other Marshals with investigations and arrests.
Every federal agency, all state law enforcement, and many local police departments have at any given time at least one deputized employee working with the USMS. Reid Foley was among them. He had told her himself that he trained at Glynco. Now, he was going to give the Marshals an active tip about illegal alcohol sales, drug dealing, illegal gambling, and human trafficking that was going to take place that evening at Jonah’s bar.
She watched Foley reach for the card, but he left it there. “You’re taking a big swing. I can’t help you if you miss. Think about your options. You could do a lot of good at the agency.”
“Yes, ma’am, but imagine what I could do if the agency was good.”
Jude watched him take the card. “Okay.”
