Page 106 of We Are All Guilty Here

“No, but it makes sense. He always had a lot of cash.” Cole gave a dry laugh. “He never charged me.”

“You should’ve charged him. We both know he was punching above his weight.”

“Yeah.”

Emmy could tell it was too soon to joke. The truth was, she’d been wary of the way Jack had pursued Cole. He was a few years older and much more experienced, but Emmy had held her tongue because it wasn’t her place to tell her son who to date. Now, she was painfully reminded of the way her entire family had managed her bad relationship with Jonah.

She said to Cole what she wished people had said to her. “Jack is a terrible person. He tried to use you to get to me and Papa. He made you think that you were special, but the entire time, he was using you to make himself feel better about his shitty existence. You can do ten times better than him. He didn’t deserve you.”

Cole nodded, but he still looked devastated.

Emmy fell back on the practical. “I’m going to show you how insurance works. It’s not complicated. You’re a grown man. I should’ve shown you sooner.”

“Okay.” Cole wiped his nose with his sleeve. Straightened his shoulders. “I went onto Jack’s TikTok to see where he was when Paisley disappeared. He’s been in Los Angeles since Sunday. He’s got a producer he’s pitching the podcast with.”

Emmy hadn’t even considered the possibility of a streamer picking up the podcast, but now she was genuinely alarmed.

Cole said, “He posted a video about how Paisley’s gonna be part two of the series. He’s on the red-eye back to Georgia. I’m sure he’s gonna stir up more shit when he gets here.”

Emmy made her head nod. “Okay.”

“Are you going to tell her?”

He meant Jude. “No, but I want you to check flights and confirm Jack was out of town just so we’re covering our bases, all right?”

“Yep.” Cole took another deep breath. “I’ll see you back here at ten.”

Emmy watched him open the door, walk down the hall. Cole’s head was down. She didn’t know which was hurting him more, his heart or his pride. For her part, Emmy regretted not beating Jack to death with his own pocket pussy when she’d had the chance. The asshole had lovebombed Cole for six months without revealing that he was working on the podcast. He’d thought Cole would be eager to throw his own mother and grandfather under the bus.

He’d thought wrong.

She turned back to the monitors, wondering what other fuckery Jack was up to. Emmy had worked really hard to forget all the kinky shit teenage Jack had kept hidden under his mattress, particularly when it came to her son. She guessed this was what Elijah Walker meant when he’d said his wife wasn’t adventurous enough. Emmy studied the man’s face. He was chewing his lip. Seth had already cut Belinda loose. Elijah was alone at the table. Emmy reached behind the DVR and disconnected the power.

Elijah startled when she walked into the interrogation room. Jumped up from his chair. Did the whole “what the fuck” thing again like the righteous husband and father that he was.

Emmy said, “You were paying Jack Whitlock for sex, right?”

Elijah’s mouth gaped like a fish out of water.

“Jack stopped fucking you when his podcast hit last year, right? He didn’t need the money anymore?”

Elijah’s mouth snapped closed.

“Before that, you met him the last Friday of every month at the Dew Drop Inn.” Emmy paused. “I can get the FBI back in here and put all this on the record, or you can tell me right now if what I’m saying is the truth—yes or no?”

“Yes.” He nodded. “But I’m not—”

Emmy slammed the door behind her. At least she knew how Jack had managed to support himself while he was making the podcast. Despite what Emmy did for a living, she wasn’t one to judge people for using what they had to make money, but it took a set of brass balls to fuck over three generations of law enforcement.

“Malignant prick,” she mumbled, leaving the station through the side exit, bypassing the squad room. Emmy texted Seth Alexander to let him know she was fine with kicking Elijah Walker loose, if only for the sake of his grieving wife.

She tried to take a deep breath, but her lungs refused to expand. The moon was low in the sky because this hellacious night was never going to come to an end. She walked in the opposite direction from the parking lot, pushing through the stand of trees along the back. Her arms went up to block low-hanging branches. She hadn’t made this trek in six months, but her body remembered the way.

The lights were on inside Dylan’s house. She could see him leaning against the kitchen counter while he read theHeraldon his iPad. He was a man who liked a routine. She knew that he’d already gone for his run, had breakfast, taken his shower, and was checking the news before heading in to work. Emmy opened the gate to his backyard. She could see her Burmese cat in the living room window. Bap-Bap’s face was buried in his paws. Emmy had asked Dylan to keep him because she was afraid that Myrna would do something bad. Giving up the cat was almost harder than giving up Dylan. She had cried in the car all the way back to her parents’ house.

Emmy wiped her eyes. The exhaustion was unrelenting. Her bones felt like they were trembling inside of her body. She couldsee two of everything. Emmy blinked, trying to clear her vision. She stood at the stairs to Dylan’s back deck, willed him to look out the window and see her.

He was still a good-looking man. Dark hair combed to the side, face clean-shaven. Already dressed for court in his suit and tie. Twelve years ago, Dylan Alvarez had been on Emmy’s periphery, herwhat if. What if she wasn’t married to Jonah? What if she asked Dylan out after the divorce? What if she waited until Cole was out of high school? What if Dylan wasn’t dating someone else? What if Emmy wasn’t good enough for him? What if she only knew how to be with a bad man?

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