Page 33 of The Secrets We Hide
Valerie said, “I can’t imagine how you’re handling all of this.”
“Thank you,” Emmy repeated. Her voice had a strange echo inside of her head. The room suddenly felt claustrophobic. How had she let herself forget?
“Ms. Wilkinson,” Cole said. “I wonder if you would mind if I asked Talia to show me her phone?”
“Her phone?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Cole gave Emmy a careful look before turning back to Valerie. “It might help us identify the older man that Mandy was seeing. I’d only need to look at Snap or Discord to get the connections. Do you think she’d be open to showing me?”
“I think so, yes.”
“I’ve got this, boss.” Cole gave Emmy that same, careful look again. “You can take the cruiser. I’ll walk back to the station.”
“Okay.” Emmy started to leave, but sheer repetition put the right words in her mouth. “Valerie, I appreciate your cooperation. We’ll do everything we can to make sure we get justice for Allison’s family.”
Valerie shook her hand. “Thank you, Sheriff.”
Emmy grabbed at the Velcro straps around her duty vest as she walked out the front door. She got no relief from pulling the heavy ballistic panels away from her body.
The next few minutes skipped forward like a bad recording. She was opening the door. Cranking the engine. Driving down the street. Two right-hand turns put her in the station parking lot. She was out of the car. She was walking through the squad room. She bypassed her father’s office. The office they had shared for ten years. Emmy’s office alone for the last six weeks. Then she was pushing open the bathroom door. Then she was on her knees in front of the toilet coughing up strings of bile.
Emmy sat back on her heels. Her brain felt like it was throbbing against her skull. She could hear atickingsound coming from the dripping faucet because no one in this station ever bothered to turn it all the way off. She looked up at the bright overhead lights. Sniffed to clear her nose. Forced herself back into her body. Felt the ache in her tailbone. The twinge in her shoulder. The tightness in her back where the muscles were looking for an excuse to seize.
“Jesus,” she whispered. She was turning into a basket case. Even Cole had noticed, which meant that Emmy had managed to unlock a new level of bad parenting.
The labored groan that came out of her mouth when she stood reminded her of her father getting out of his cruiser on cold mornings. She went to the sink. Gulped water from the faucet. Turned the handle all the way off to stop the incessant dripping. She stared at her reflection in the mirror. Dark circles under her eyes. Octopus tendrils of hair sprouting from her head. Her skin still felt filthy from sweating at Myrna’s grave, then being covered in Sheetrock, then sweltering inside the Tyvek suit.
She needed to get her shit together.
Emmy put her phone on the counter. Slid her fingers across the screen. Tapped a familiar number.
Tommy answered on the third ring. “What’s up, kiddo?”
He sounded the same as always, which was exactly what she needed from her brother right now. “Just hanging out in the toilet.”
“Fun times.”
Emmy noticed the sound of gentle shushing in the background. “Are you at the river basin?”
“Thought I’d go fishing.”
“It’s night-time, Tommy.”
“Might catch a starfish.”
Emmy laughed, but only for the release. “Do you remember a girl from your history class named Talia Wilkinson?”
“Turned in her work on time. Stayed out of trouble.”
Emmy had been raised by a teacher. She knew this was high praise. “She’s friends with a girl named Mandy Vickery. Both her and her mother were—”
“I know what happened.”
There was a weight to their silence.
Tommy said, “Never had Mandy in my class. Celia might know her.”
Celia was one of the vice principals at North Falls High School. She would be a good source, but Emmy wanted to talk to her brother. Or listen to him breathe as he watched the Flint River roll by.
