Emmy saw the stairs ahead of them. She wanted to push himto the bottom, let him know what it felt like to be vulnerable with no way of fighting back. “Mandy’s going to identify you, Bill. She saw your face.”
“She didn’t see shit. I was at my motel. I told you.”
“You were at the pawnshop selling Allison’s camera forty-five minutes after you murdered her.”
Bill’s head swiveled around so fast that his foot caught on one of the treads. Emmy wrenched him back up. She saw the strobe of police lights in the street. She pushed Bill out the front door. Julian came running, Glock drawn.
“Take him,” Emmy ordered, shoving Bill toward the deputy. “Put him in the back of your cruiser.”
“Yes, boss.”
Coach Bell was in her front yard. The neighbors had come out to see the spectacle.
Emmy turned around. Jude was on the front porch. She held a pillowcase in her hands. “This is what he was holding.”
Emmy looked inside the pillowcase. She saw Allison’s necklaces, some rings, a pair of diamond cufflinks she’d told Emmy had belonged to her grandfather.
“Emmy.”
“Don’t say it.”
She leaned down, pressing her hands to the tops of her legs. She tried to hold on to the surge of excitement that had gotten her through the last five minutes. The comedown happened anyway. Bill was right. She didn’t have proof. Nothing had changed except he’d shown up at the crime scene to steal from the victim, and that would keep him in jail for two days before he bonded out. Right now, they didn’t have anything that tied him to the shooting. The forensics would take weeks to come back. The DNA and blood analysis even longer. The only way to lock up Bill Garrison for the shooting right now was to get a confession.
Emmy unstrapped the Velcro on her vest as she walked toward Julian’s cruiser. She could see Bill in the back. He was staring at the bars between the front and back seats. Talking to himself. Shaking his head. He was rattled, but she didn’t know how long that would last.
“Julian, take this.” Emmy handed him her vest. Then she unbuckled her belt and gave him that, too. All Emmy kept was the key to her handcuffs. She opened the back door to his cruiser.
“What are you doing?” Julian asked. “You know what he did to Allison.”
“Let him try to do it with me.”
She got into the back seat and closed the door. The lock clicked behind her. The door could only be opened from the outside. She waved for Julian to step away. Then she sat back in the seat and stared at the dashboard. Julian’s laptop was open, light shining back in her face. She saw all the buttons and toggles. The flashing red light on the rear-view mirror.
Bill sniffed. “You gonna beat a handcuffed man?”
Emmy showed him the key. Motioned for him to turn around.
Bill groaned his relief when she released the cuffs. “You can’t question me without a lawyer.”
“If you’re invoking your right to an attorney, then I’m happy to get out of the car.”
“No.” He rubbed his wrists. “Emmy, we’re reasonable people. We can settle this on our own. I didn’t shoot anybody. I promise you.”
“Are you waiving your rights?”
He held up his hands in surrender. “Yes, Officer, I’m waiving my rights.”
Emmy wrapped her fingers around the handcuffs. “You were caught trespassing in a crime scene. You were stealing Allison’s jewelry. You tried to assault me.”
“Assault?” Bill asked. “Come on. I barely tapped you.”
“I’ve got a retired FBI agent who will testify otherwise.”
“Sometimes—” He stopped himself, then started again. “Sometimes, I can’t control my temper.”
“Can you control your temper around your mother?”
“What?”
