Page 73 of The Secrets We Hide
“Here’s the problem.” Emmy leaned her elbows on the table. “We could talk about this all day, but every single theory about Reggie or Bill or the UnSub or Woody breaks apart when you try to match it to the crime scene. Right now, I don’t know my ass from a hole in the ground, but I know my DFR went nuts when Sherry walked me through the shooting.”
Jude clasped her hands in her lap. “What does that tell you?”
Emmy started nodding as if something finally made sense. “That I’m working the case in the wrong direction. I keep tryingto figure out what Allison and Mandy were up to when I need to figure out what really happened inside that house.”
Jude could feel Emmy’s relief like a fog lifting from the room. All she’d needed was a sounding board. “There’s your answer. Start at the house. Focus on what the crime scene tells you.”
Emmy stood up. Rinsed her mug in the sink. Stuck it in the dishwasher. Reached for her vest and belt. Her fingers touched Gerald’s empty hook. This time, she left them hanging.
“You coming?”
Jude said, “Give me a minute to get dressed.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Emmy squinted at the road until the yellow line came into focus. She was exhausted. Her eyelids felt like sandpaper. She glanced over at her sister. For once, she wasn’t peppering Emmy with questions and talking about load ratios on horses. Instead, she was staring out the window, sunglasses hiding most of her face.
Jude had been crying about Myrna when Emmy had walked into the kitchen. Maybe all the losses were hitting her harder than she was letting on. She wouldn’t be the first Clifton who trafficked in stoicism. Emmy had lost each of her parents once. Jude had lost them twice. That she was still helping on the case either pointed to a need for distraction or a selfless kindness.
Either way, Emmy felt the familiar battle between gratitude and irritation. Maybe she was mad at her sister for leaving forty years ago. Maybe she was mad at her for coming back. For some inexplicable reason, Emmy couldn’t let go of the pendulum. She had felt so grateful to Jude for listening to her in the kitchen. Now, she was filled with regret for inviting her to ride along to Allison’s house.
Especially when Jude started talking.
“When Tommy and I were kids, Dad had a man named Chip Cuddy who was his deputy chief. They were inseparable. Chip always knew what Dad was thinking. They did everything in lockstep. We called him Dad’s shadow.”
Emmy felt her jaw clench as the pendulum veered toward the negative.
“Virgil took over when Chip retired. You were there. Youknow they were always hand in glove. Then you were promoted to deputy chief when Virgil retired, and Dad brought you into his confidence.”
Emmy tried to relax her jaw. She didn’t need a flow chart. “Georgia has one-hundred-fifty-nine counties. Roughly one hundred of them recorded more deaths than births over the past few years.” Jude had taken on her Quantico lecturer tone again. “In the southwestern region, the textile mills are closing. Farms are consolidating, automating. Older people are staying put and younger people are moving to larger cities. Clifton County has the auto parts factory, the technical college and the outlet malls, which are the only reasons it’s still thriving.”
Emmy was trying not to be an asshole, but she couldn’t stop the sharp glance she gave Jude.
“The point is, Clifton is going to keep growing. All this farmland will eventually be turned into neighborhoods, which will bring more people, which will mean more neighborhoods. Your department oversees the four bigger cities that all the younger people will move to. Bigger cities have bigger problems.”
Emmy especially didn’t need a lesson in land development. “How does this tie into Allison?”
“It ties into investigating. You can’t keep everything in a tight circle the way Dad did. At the very least, if something happens to you, there needs to be a team who can take over. You need to learn how to delegate.”
“To Brett?” Emmy snorted a laugh. “I’ve got half my squad against me and the other half thinks I’m not up to the job.”
“They need to feel like they’re part of a team. You can’t tell them everything, but you have to let them knowsomethings. Make them feel useful. Give them a sense of purpose.”
“Is this about Cole?” Emmy was going to have a long talk with her son about whining to his long-lost aunt. “His purpose is to follow orders. All of them just need to do what I tell them to do exactly the way I tell them to do it.”
“You can’t micromanage them. They have their own thoughts and ideas. You have to let the person who does the job decide how to do the job. As long as you get results, that’s all that matters.”
“Time matters. You know that better than anybody else. You can’t be out spinning your wheels when there are leads that need to be chased down.”
“Who’s chasing down leads right now?”
Emmy’s jaw ratcheted tight again. Brett was guarding Mandy at the hospital. Gregg was parked outside the Guthrie house waiting for the family to come home from church. Cole was asleep if he knew what was good for him. Her other deputies were catching speeders and tackling the mystery of the soup can some bored middle schooler had left in Penley’s mailbox.
Meanwhile, Emmy was probably driving into yet another brick wall.
“Talking through a case with a team gives you a different perspective on the evidence. You can’t keep it all in your head.” Jude dropped the stern lecturer tone. “Emmy, this is not an easy job. You’ve already figured that out. But it’s also incredibly stressful. The anxiety it causes can be crushing. Why do you think Dad started drinking?”
Emmy gave her the side-eye. “Dad wasn’t anxious.”
