Page 102 of We Are All Guilty Here

Jude asked, “You okay?”

“Yep.” She looked back up, determined to push through it. “Virgil said that Belinda lives in Penley’s apartments over in Verona. It’s got a lot of single, young adults with money in their pockets. Jonah’s bar is down the street. It might not mean anything, but Woody runs drugs out of the back.”

Jude asked, “The same Woody who works out of room nineteen at the Dew Drop Inn?”

“The same,” Emmy said. “Woody is clever. Keeps his hands clean. But his name came up on the Broken Angels case. He was a teenager then. Cheyenne had a lot of hard drugs hidden in theceiling of her bedroom closet, along with sixteen grand in cash. We never found out where she was getting them.”

“Adam wasn’t her supplier?”

“No, he only ever dealt pot as far as we could tell.” Emmy saw Virgil at the end of the hall. He lifted his chin. She told Jude, “Belinda’s here. What do you want to do with her?”

Jude paused. “You tell me, Sheriff.”

Again, Emmy had to stop to think it through. “She’s got a clean record. She’s probably never been inside of a police station, either.”

Jude was smiling. “Throw her in with Elijah and listen in on their conversation?”

“Yep.” Emmy pointed Virgil toward the interrogation room. She waited for him to nod before she allowed herself the pleasure of sinking into the chair in front of the monitors. A kind of groan came out of her mouth. She fought the urge to close her eyes, instead staring at Elijah Walker’s profile on the screen. He looked as drained as she felt. He was holding a Styrofoam cup between his hands. She thought about watching Dale Loudermilk on these same monitors twelve years ago with her father at her side.

Emmy looked up at her son. Cole’s shoulders were tensed. His eyes were still bloodshot. She should send him home to get some rest, but she didn’t want him to leave. “Cole, turn out the lights and close the door.”

The room darkened. Jude took the other chair. Emmy could see Cole’s wounded expression in the glow of the monitors as Jude sat in his grandfather’s spot. Emmy reached back and squeezed his hand. He held on tight before wiping under his eye with his fist.

“Belinda!” Elijah’s voice was jarringly loud from the speaker. Virgil had just tossed her into the room and shut the door.

Emmy watched Elijah hold out his hands in an exaggerated shrug.

He asked, “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“What do you think I’m doing here?” Belinda shot back. “Your daughter is missing and you’re cheating on your wife. This is everyDatelineever made.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Elijah huffed. “No one thinks I kidnapped my own daughter.”

“Honey, look at where you are.” Belinda sounded incredulous. “They don’t keep you inside a police station for hours unless they think you’ve done something bad.”

Elijah stared at her, unblinking. Then his face changed as it slowly dawned on him that she was right. He sank into the chair. Rested his palms on the table. Emmy recognized the absolute exhaustion in his eyes. They’d deprived him of sleep, peppered him with questions, taken away all sense of control. He had been running on fumes, only reacting to the thing that was directly in front of him, but now reality was hitting him, and he knew that everything had changed. There was no going back to his life of two days ago.

“They—” His voice was gravelly. “They kept asking for my WhatsApp password. Maybe they hacked into it.”

“That’s probably how they found me.” Belinda was clearly tracking details better than Elijah. “All our texts are gonna be out there for everybody to read.”

“They wouldn’t—they couldn’t—”

“Oh, honey, yes they will.” Belinda pitched up her voice as if she was talking to a senseless child. “Elijah, stop worrying about people finding out about shit that’s inconsequential. The only thing that matters right now is getting Paisley home.”

“You’re right. You’re right.” He started nodding his head. “This is insane. Stuff like this doesn’t happen in …”

Emmy could see that they were both silently finishing his statement. Stuff exactly like this had happened in North Falls twelve years ago.

“Do you—” Elijah’s throat made a gulping noise that traveled through the speaker. “Do you think they’ll find her?”

“I’ve been praying that they will.”

Elijah missed the equivocation. “They keep asking me the same questions. I don’t know what to say. I just want them to find her.”

“They’re asking you the same questions to make sure you give them the same answers.”

Elijah looked surprised. He was caught in the perpetual loopof compartmentalizing what had happened so that his body didn’t completely shut down. Emmy could remember Ruth Baker going through the same emotional turmoil twelve years ago. It was unfathomable for a parent to think about losing a child.

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