Chapter Eleven #4
Obviously, the woman had been talking about Myrna and Gerald, but Jude was not entirely off the hook because there was always, constantly, relentlessly in the back of her mind, the knowledge that she had abandoned Emmy.
There was no way to make up for those lost decades, but she could damn well do her job now.
“Okay,” she said. “You’re almost halfway to the first forty-eight hours of your case. If you don’t get a viable suspect before tomorrow afternoon, the chances that you’ll solve the case drop by fifty percent. Let’s talk it out.”
Slowly, Emmy sat back up. Cleared her throat. Her eyes were red. Sunlight from the window traced her delicate eyelashes in white light. She looked so vulnerable that it was all Jude could do to stay in her chair.
Jude asked, “What would Dad tell you to do?”
The muscles in Emmy’s neck turned into ropes. “I don’t know.”
The admission took something out of her.
Jude recognized that feeling of complete exhaustion.
It wasn’t just the case that had hit a wall.
Emmy had hit a wall, too. The rush that came from a new investigation had dissipated.
Her brain was in a fog. She was mourning the loss of Allison, worried about Mandy.
Terrified the killer would get away or worse—kill again.
The weight of the responsibility was bearing down on her.
She was questioning all her decisions. Incapable of making new ones.
“Come on.” Jude rapped her knuckles on the table to refocus Emmy’s attention. “You watched Dad hit dead ends a million times. What did he always do?”
“I know you already know the answer. Go back to the beginning, but what’s the beginning?”
“Tell me the options.”
“If Mandy was the target?” Emmy shrugged.
“Is the beginning when Allison brought Bill into her life? Or when Reggie started sleeping over? Or is it two weeks ago when Woody was first seen with Mandy in the garage? Or is it three days ago when Allison confronted Woody at the motel? Or when the shooter walked into the house yesterday? Or is it when Mandy met the older, unknown man that Talia Wilkinson knew about but never saw or met? Those bruises on Mandy’s body came from some-where, and Allison didn’t think it was Bill. That’s why she confronted Woody.”
“You had your guys run UnSubs, right?”
“Yeah, but this is North Falls. There’s no such thing as an unknown subject. Everybody knows everybody, and if they don’t know you, then they either ask or call the cops.”
“Fair enough,” Jude said. “What if Allison was the target? What’s the beginning there?”
Emmy’s shoulder went up in a half-shrug that was identical to Cole’s.
“Do we go back a year to when Jonah was arrested for buying drugs off Woody and Allison made the evidence go away? Or is this tied into her lawsuit against Clayville for work-place retaliation? Or does it have something to do with proffering the Giglio list to the FBI? Or is it a domestic violence case at the hands of Bill or Reggie? Or is it related to whatever Allison was working on as a PI? Or is it as simple as she pissed off Woody and he sent somebody to kill her?”
“Does Woody do that sort of thing?”
“No. Maybe. I mean, you don’t do something until you start doing it.
” Emmy sounded frustrated, but that was better than her earlier monotone.
“Hiding a tracker in somebody’s shoe sounds like you’re stalking them.
Obsessed with them. That’s what gets me back to the UnSub, or whatever you want to call him. ”
“Why does it matter who the killer was after?”
Emmy shook her head. “You’re gonna have to spell it out for me.”
“Allison knew about him. She was leaving town, remember? Had her bags packed. Fake IDs ready. Fifty grand from the lawsuit against the city. Stacks of cash in the attic. Filed papers on Bill. If she was fleeing for her own sake or fleeing to protect Mandy, she knew the reason.”
Emmy looked at her watch. “The Guthries said I could talk to Skylar after church. Maybe she’ll know something.”
“What about Bill?”
Emmy’s laugh sounded harsh. “Yeah, what about Bill? His lawyer left a voicemail for me. Said any questions I have should go through him. Won’t even offer a timeline for Bill’s morning the day of the shooting.
Said anything Bill told me about his whereabouts should be interpreted through the lens of his grief.
You can thank Brett for that little gift. ”
“He would’ve lawyered up anyway.”
“I’ve rolled up on that asshole at least a dozen times for beating Allison and he talked to me every time. This time wouldn’t have been any different.”
Jude didn’t share her certainty. A possible homicide charge had a way of focusing a man’s attention. “Are you sure Mandy’s bruises didn’t come from Bill?”
“I’m not trying to be shitty, but you don’t know what it’s like being a mother. Somebody messes with your kid, you can’t stop yourself. Rage takes over. Allison would’ve stabbed Bill in the face if he ever touched Mandy.”
Jude’s hand reflexively slipped into her robe pocket. She picked the edge of Myrna’s index card with her fingernail.
“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 trying to 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.”