Page 150 of We Are All Guilty Here

“Before, yes.” Walton hesitated. “Not after. That was Virgil’s thing.”

Cole grabbed Emmy’s injured hand. She held onto him, ignoring the pain.

Jude asked, “What about the damage to Madison’s feet and hands?”

“That was—” Walton hesitated again. “We both liked that. We took turns. The way the breaks reverberate into the wooden handle, it’s such a tiny vibration. Almost like a little death with every snap.”

Emmy parted her lips to breathe. Her only consolation was that a jury would hear Walton’s sick, twisted admission and have absolutely no qualms about putting him on death row.

Jude asked, “Who disposed of the bodies?”

“Both of us,” he said. “Virgil knew that Millie had gone back out to help search for the girls. We picked up a concrete block and a length of chain from his barn. We dragged the bodies to the middle of the water, then anchored them down. I barely made it back to the house in time. My hair was still wet when the sheriff knocked on the door. Virgil’s uniform was soaked through, but nobody noticed.”

“Why leave them in the pond?” Jude asked.

“Virgil said he wanted to make sure the bodies were found. That we owed that to Madison’s parents. He knew them, you see. Paul and Hannah. They were good people.”

Emmy hadn’t felt her rage flare up until that moment. Virgil had not chosen Millie’s pond out of compassion. He’d put the girls there as a big fuck you to Emmy and Gerald.

Jude said, “Cheyenne was a patient of yours when she first moved to town.”

“I did an emergency filling, but she wasn’t one of myregulars.” Walton shrugged again, as if he was helpless. “She was Virgil’s choice, though. I was going to leave her alone, but he saw her at the outlet mall and something just clicked inside of him. That’s how it is with these girls. They smile at you or flirt a little bit, and you feel this tug in your heart. You can’t sleep. You can’t eat. All you do is think about them. It’ll drive you crazy if you let it.”

Jude asked, “Whose idea was it to take Paisley Walker?”

Walton’s demeanor changed. He’d been fairly open for the last hour, but now, he crossed his arms, sat back in his chair. “That was all Virgil. I’d never even heard Paisley’s name until I read it in theHerald. Then there were all those angry people outside the house. I thought Virgil was trying to set up Adam again. Then your father told me that he didn’t think Adam did it.”

Emmy leaned forward. She studied Jude’s face in the monitor. Nothing had changed. She looked just as dispassionate as when Walton had described brutally murdering the two girls.

Jude asked, “Did Gerald explain why he thought Adam was innocent?”

“He said North Falls was too small and Adam was too big. Because of the podcast, everybody knew his face. There was no way Adam could get close enough to a teenage girl. The same mob that was outside the house would’ve chased him into the ground.”

Emmy doubted her father had used as many words, but that sounded exactly like the kind of insight that Gerald would’ve had. He’d clearly developed the theory on the long walk down the driveway. Only the bullet from Paul’s gun had stopped him from sharing it with Emmy.

Walton said, “Virgil obviously realized the same thing. He knew he couldn’t pin it on Adam again.”

“Why are you saying that it’s obvious?”

“Because I know how Virgil thinks. I told you I was his Get Out of Jail Free card all along.” Another shrug. “When Adam put that damn hammer on my kitchen table, it might as well have been a gauntlet. I knew Virgil was coming after me.”

“How would the hammer implicate you?”

“My DNA is all over it. Virgil always used gloves. He was never without a condom. He kept himself waxed. He knew exactly what they would find.” Walton gave a bitter laugh. “And if they didn’t find it, he knew how to make it look like the lab had anyway.”

Emmy had no doubt he was right. She’d completely trusted Virgil’s analysis.

Jude asked, “Why did Virgil keep all the evidence? All the paperwork, all the trophies, were hidden in plain sight.”

“That was how he played the game.” Walton almost sounded envious. “Up until recently, Peggy was living at the house. All she had to do was walk downstairs and she’d find out everything. But she never did. She trusted him. Everybody trusted him—Gerald, Emmy Lou, Father Trask, the whole damn town. He got off on the deception. It gives you a rush knowing you’re smarter than everybody else.”

Jude didn’t point out that he hadn’t been smart enough in the end. “What about twelve years ago? Was it Virgil’s idea to frame Adam for murdering Cheyenne and Madison?”

“No one set him up.” Walton seemed perplexed by the question, despite the fact that he had used his son’s driver’s license for that exact purpose. “That’s just how it happened.”

“What about Cheyenne’s necklace?” Jude asked. “It was found in your backyard.”

“I assume Adam’s explanation is the truth—Madison gave it to him to repair. He tinkered with things all the time. He really is quite good with his hands.”

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