No One Can Know(92)
“So he deserved to die?”
“I didn’t say that.”
Emma’s head lolled back against the wooden wall. She felt sick, and for once she didn’t think she could blame it on the baby. “You know the worst part? Every awful thing he did is just another reason they’re going to think I killed him.”
“But you didn’t. We know that, and we’ll prove it,” Daphne said. “It all comes back to the flash drive, right?”
“But no one else even knew it was in there,” Emma said.
“Nathan called Ellis, you said,” Daphne replied.
“But he didn’t say that he’d found the flash drive. Just that he’d found evidence,” Emma said.
“According to who?” Daphne asked.
“Ellis, I guess,” Emma said, and frowned. Daphne raised her brows. “You think he was lying?”
“It’s the only thing I can think of that makes sense,” Daphne said. “Someone had to know Nathan had it, right? And had to know what was on it.”
“You think it was Ellis Dad was talking to that night, on the phone?” Emma asked.
“Maybe,” Daphne said slowly, considering it.
“The third man in the photos. Could it have been Ellis?” Emma asked.
“I couldn’t see anything more than a shadow,” Daphne said. “Do you really think he could have been involved in a murder?”
“I don’t know,” Emma said.
“Emma?” JJ’s voice came from a distance. Emma frowned.
“Shall we?” Daphne said. At Emma’s nod she exited, and Emma followed at a somewhat ungainly scramble. She reached the base of the precarious ladder to find JJ walking across the lawn toward them, her phone in her hand.
“What’s going on?” Emma asked, getting a look at JJ’s face and knowing it was nothing good.
“Chris has been trying to reach you. He says he has bad news,” JJ said. “He said he needs to talk to you in person.”
Emma’s heart sank.
There was only one thing she could think of that he might mean.
47
EMMA
Now
JJ gave her a ride. Emma wasn’t fond of being carted around like an invalid, but she didn’t have time to go prize her car out of the jaws of the justice system. JJ shoved random detritus off the passenger seat with muttered apologies. Emma sat scrunched against the corner between the door and the seat back, trying to get her galloping heartbeat to slow.
“I would have told them, you know,” JJ said suddenly, startling Emma. “I wouldn’t have let you actually go to prison. I just wanted you to know that.” She sounded like she was trying to convince herself as much as Emma. It was true now, Emma thought—she believed her about that. But she thought it was more a wish about the past than a reality.
“I know,” Emma said. They fell silent again. JJ stopped at a red light. A woman walked in front of the car, two daughters in tow. One of them had a book open, and her mother put a hand on the back of her head to make sure she didn’t veer off into traffic. The other skipped by, turning her head to stare straight at Emma and JJ until she was forced to look forward again.
“Did you know that Daphne is tracking my phone?” Emma asked.
“Tracking your phone? You’re sure?” she asked.
“I take it that’s a no,” Emma said.
“Why would she be tracking you?” JJ asked. She slowed as she approached the bridge over the river. It was a two-lane bridge with a walking path on one side. Here, the river was deeper and faster than out behind the house, and the sound of it filled the car.
“To protect me, I guess,” Emma said wearily. Who knew why Daphne did the things she did?
The car bumped and jostled on the wooden planks. To either side of the water, the bank dropped down at a steep slope, and on the far side a couple of teenagers were picking their way down.
People used to jump off the bridge when they were kids, until a boy drowned the year Emma started high school. People said he was a daredevil, that he must have hit the water and gasped, or hit his head on a rock.
“Do you trust her?” Emma asked.
“Daphne? Why wouldn’t I?” JJ asked, startled.
“I don’t know. Maybe it’s wishful thinking, but I keep wondering—you don’t actually remember killing them. Right?” Emma asked.
“I don’t remember pulling the trigger. But Daphne saw me there. Mom was still alive. It couldn’t have been more than what, two minutes? So what’s the alternative? Someone kills them and runs out the door, and I don’t see them?”
“You don’t remember seeing Daphne, either,” Emma pointed out. “You don’t know where you got the gun. You don’t know how you ended up completely soaked.”
“I wanted them dead,” JJ said hoarsely.
“We all did,” Emma replied. She shook her head. “I don’t know. Something about it all doesn’t make sense.”
“Please, don’t,” JJ said. Emma cast her a curious look. “I’ve worked so hard to accept what I did, Emma. I can’t afford to wonder.”
Emma nodded, fell silent. She thought she understood what JJ meant. Yet it still bothered her. The gun, the gaps in JJ’s memory, the fact that Daphne hadn’t seen her shoot them.