Page 29 of The Secrets We Hide
“Valerie,” she interrupted. “Is Mandy okay?”
“She’s still in surgery. I think all we can do right now is keep her in our prayers.”
“My only prayer is that whoever did this gets worse than the death penalty.”
Emmy figured the death penalty was pretty bad. “Is Talia home?”
The woman chewed her bottom lip. She was clearly torn between a desire to help and the natural need to protect her child. “I read the horrible stories online about Bill. Is it true that he abused Allison? Do you think he hurt Mandy?”
Emmy said, “Valerie, I know this is difficult, but your daughter could have important information about the man who did this.”
She was clearly still conflicted, but she opened the door anyway. “Talia’s lying down in her room. I’ll go get her.”
Cole closed the door behind them with a softclick. Theyboth looked around. The house was compact, the living room giving way to the tiny dining room that led to a galley kitchen that shot down the side of one of the three bedrooms. The layout matched her grandmother’s bungalow, but the explosion of colors would’ve set Nana’s hair on fire. Orange walls. Overstuffed white marshmallow chairs and a couch in stripes of blue ticking. Red and yellow rag rugs had been laid over a purple painted floor. Emmy tried not to think about all the hours she’d spent on her hands and knees scraping white paint off her grandmother’s kitchen hardwoods only to have Jonah drop an entire bottle of red wine that had stained the wood like a crime scene.
Cole said, “I loved our old house.”
Emmy tried to ignore the wistful tone in her son’s voice.
“I’m sorry, Sheriff Clifton.” Valerie had her arm wrapped around her daughter’s waist as she led her up the narrow hallway. Talia was slim, with long dark hair and high cheekbones. “She’s still a bit out of it.”
Emmy could tell the girl had been drugged. She could also see why. Talia’s face was swollen from crying. Red lines criss-crossed through the whites of her eyes. She looked incredibly young and vulnerable, which summed up every sixteen-year-old child. The violence at Allison’s house had been a life-altering trauma. Even if Mandy survived, things would never be the same. Talia was clearly struggling with this fact. There was so much pain in her expression that Emmy felt guilty for intruding.
Still, she tried, “Talia, do you mind answering some questions for me?”
Talia sniffed. She waited for her mother to nod before giving an answer. “Yes, ma’am.”
Emmy perched on one of the marshmallow chairs. Cole stood with his back to the front door. Valerie hesitated before leading her daughter to the couch. She rested a protective hand over Talia’s, then nodded for Emmy to begin.
“I’m so sorry about what happened today. I know Mandy is your friend. I want you to know that there was nothing that happened today that’s your fault. Or Mandy’s. It’s nobody’s fault except the bad man who did it.”
Talia wiped her nose with the back of her hand. Tears flowed freely down her cheeks. “Is she going to be all right?”
“I don’t know,” Emmy admitted, because lying wouldn’t help build trust. “The reason I’m here talking to you is I need to know a little bit more about Mandy’s life, and I’m hoping you can help fill in some blanks. Okay?”
Talia nodded.
“A lot of times, when you’re friends with somebody, you make promises to keep secrets, but I need you to know that there’s nothing you can tell me about Mandy that’s going to get her into trouble. Right now, we all need to work together to do everything we can to help her. Does that make sense?”
Talia glanced at her mother before nodding at Emmy.
“Can you tell me about the last time you saw Mandy?”
Talia wiped her nose again. Cole handed her his handkerchief. She looked startled, as if she hadn’t noticed he was there until now. Emmy nodded for her son to move to the other side of the room.
“She was—” Talia wiped her nose with the handkerchief. “She was with me yesterday. We went to her house to hang out and study.”
“How did you get there?”
“On our bikes.”
Emmy knew that kids cut through the back roads from town. She had done it herself as a kid. “Do you usually go to Mandy’s house after school?”
Valerie jumped in. “They’re here most days. I work from home on Mondays and Fridays, so they always go to Allison’s on those afternoons. She’s never home. They have the place to themselves.”
Emmy caught the subtle dig at Allison’s parenting. “Mandy, was Bill at the house yesterday?”
“No ma’am, he’s always at work.”
