Page 37 of The Secrets We Hide
“Good. Send them to Sherry for analysis. Anything else?”
He glanced at Brett before looking back at Emmy. “Yesterday, a Clayville squad car was parked at the curb in front of fourteen-eighty-eight Dahlia Drive for twenty-eight minutes.”
Emmy verified, “That’s one street over from Allison’s house?”
“Yes, ma’am. The next-door neighbor’s camera caught it.”
Emmy felt the same roil in her stomach from before. “Was it Reggie?”
Brett said, “Reggie drives an unmarked.”
“He does now.” Cole’s tone was sharp. “He hydroplaned off the interstate a few weeks ago. Just got his ride back today.”
Emmy didn’t need an accident report. She asked Cole, “Could you see inside? Catch a squad number on the car? License plate?”
“No, ma’am. I saw the driver-side door open, but not who got out. The camera was pointed down more toward the porch. But I saw a marked Clayville SUV on two different cameras three days ago. One driving west on Sunflower and the other heading south on Dahlia. Couldn’t see inside. Didn’t see the plate or number. But the left front bumper was cracked, so I know it was the same SUV.”
“Okay,” Emmy said. “Pull somebody off patrol to help you look at all the footage. I want to know how often Clayville squad cars have been in Clifton Gardens.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Emmy watched Cole shuffle toward his desk. She didn’t have time to regret embarrassing him in front of Brett. Her focus had been on Woody and the unknown older man, but now she was wondering about Reggie again.
Brett said, “Come on, Em. He’s not a bad kid. Cut him some slack.”
“Get your feet off my desk. How did you know Reggie’s on his way here?”
Brett’s feet hit the floor, but his mouth couldn’t find a plausible explanation. “What?”
“You said, ‘You can ask Reggie when he gets here,’” Emmy quoted. “How did you know he’s on his way?”
Brett’s cheeks were more flushed than Cole’s had been. “I just assumed—”
“Since Cole’s looking at the camera footage, I need you to cross-reference those cases. Anything Allison or the drug squad worked on with our department. Search back at least five years. Prioritize any investigations that crapped out without an arrest.”
Brett studied her for a beat. “You got it,boss lady.”
Emmy opened her laptop so she had something to occupy herself while Brett shut the door behind him. She gripped her hands into fists. Looked over her laptop into the squad room. Cole was slumped at his desk like she’d spanked him at the grocery store. Brett had started ordering around deputies like a drill sergeant. And Emmy was the nasty bitch who was pretending to work in her office.
She opened her email. Clicked on one of the files that Cole had sent. Emmy’s eyes blurred on the image of a black and blue striped squad car pulling up to the curb in an otherwise empty street. There was no sound on the video. The station had gone silent. The ticking clock on the wall hit her eardrum like an ice pick. Her own heartbeat provided a jumpy staccato.
She thought about all the times she had sat across from her father at this same desk and asked him for advice on how to be a good leader, and all the times she had gone home and sat at her mother’s kitchen table and begged for guidance on how to be a good mother, and Emmy was so overwhelmed by a sense of aloneness that she had trouble drawing in a full breath.
A bark of male laughter pulled her out of her head. Brett was talking to Reggie Wilder. The police chief had changed out of his uniform and was wearing black sweatpants and an aggressively tight navy T-shirt. He was leaning on a black cane. His left knee was bent at an awkward angle. A rigid plastic brace with a metal hinge made his leg look like he’d taken it off a robot.
Both men turned to look at Emmy. Brett’s discomfort was palpable, like he’d been caught by the teacher. He patted Reggie on the shoulder, then gave Emmy a mock salute before slinking off to his desk.
Boss lady.
When you were too much of a coward to call a woman a bitch to her face.
Emmy stood up. Opened the door. She girded herself as Reggie limped toward her. She knew he was here to try to bully his way onto the investigation. There was no way Emmy was going to let that happen. Allison and Mandy had been shot in North Falls, which meant the investigation belonged to the Clifton County Sheriff’s Department.
And Reggie Wilder still fell squarely on her list of suspects.
“Emmy,” Reggie said. “Let’s get this over with.”
She was saved a response by the lobby door swinging open. Bernadette Grayson, the mayor of Clayville, was on her phone. There was a no-nonsense air about her, like she had a lot of other places she needed to be. Everyone knew the mayoral job was a stepping stone to something bigger. She held up her finger to Emmy, asking for a second to finish the call.
