Page 111 of We Are All Guilty Here

Jude nodded, but only because it was a good story. “What’s old Bubba up to?”

“He’s a grandfather now. His kids are worthless shits, just like he was. And Bubba’s still an asshole. He seems to have forgotten that he was high on coke when the cars crashed. Good thing, too. He probably wouldn’t have survived otherwise.”

Jude didn’t want to talk about the car accident, either. “I’m glad you ended up with Tommy. You always had a crush on him.”

Celia paused before answering, as if to make it clear she knew what Jude was doing. “Who did you end up with?”

“An AUSA who thought we wanted the same things.” Jude shrugged. “We didn’t. He was a good guy, though. He’s got a wife and three kids now.”

“No kids for you?”

“No kids for me.”

Celia let out a long sigh. “What’d you do when you left, drive until you hit the Pacific, then set down roots?”

“I toured around the country in the back of a Volkswagen bus fronting a band called the Radical Fiends.” Jude laughed along with Celia because it was one of the stupidest, most laughable things a girl could do when she left a small town. “I dated the bass player, then the drummer, then they kicked me out for cheating with the keyboardist, then I decided I was sick of it and went to night school, then grad school, then I got offered a job on the tenure track, then I gave it up and joined the FBI.”

“And stopped drinking along the way.” Celia paused, but Jude didn’t fill in the blanks. “You got your doctorate. Myrna would’ve been proud.”

“Maybe.” Jude wasn’t sure. “How do I get back on Tommy’s good side?”

“He’s not that complicated. He loves his family. If you get right with Emmy, you’ll be right with Tommy.”

“Easy peasy,” Jude joked.

They both turned at the sound of another creak at the top of the stairs. Cole was in a pair of white boxer shorts. His muscles were sculpted like marble. He had a tattoo of a skull and crossbones on his left hip.

He looked at Jude. “Did they find Paisley?”

“No, sweetheart. I’m sorry.”

Celia started puttering around the kitchen getting coffee and another plate. “Why are you up, honey? You’ve got another hour to sleep.”

Cole slumped into the chair. “I keep wondering about Paisley. Do you really think she’s dead?”

The question had been directed at Jude. She wasn’t going to soft-pedal the answer. “If you look at the statistics, it’s highly unlikely she’s still alive.”

He said, “Madison was kept alive for at least twelve hours.”

Jude didn’t point out that they were well past that mark. “I think it’s always good in these cases to be pragmatic. Hope can be a terrible thing. It wears on you.”

“Here you go.” Celia kissed the top of Cole’s head as she placed breakfast in front of him. “You need to eat.”

Cole asked Jude, “So we’re just gonna go through the case again?”

“Yes, but I want to talk to Adam Huntsinger first.”

Celia stiffened but kept silent.

Cole had picked up on the change. He gave Jude a careful look. “What does Mom think about that?”

“I drove here to ask, but she’s not home, and if she’s asleep, I don’t want to wake her up. Can you call that deputy who’s supposed to be watching him?”

“His name is Brett Temple, but Adam’s probably at Jonah’s bar waiting for the beer truck.” Cole shoved a biscuit into his mouth. Jude endured a lot of chewing before he continued. “Jonah hired him to piss off Mom.”

Jude could tell by Celia’s posture that Jonah had pissed off more people than Emmy. She told Cole, “It’s nine in the morning. Do they serve breakfast?”

“Lunch,” he said. “The beer delivery comes at nine thirty, and there’s no way Jonah’s getting up early unless he has to.”

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