Page 97 of No One Can Know

“I take it that’s a no,” Emma said.

“Why would she be tracking you?” JJ asked. She slowed as sheapproached 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’tseenher shoot them.

What if they thought they’d been covering for one another, but it had been someone else all along?

Or maybe it was only a fantasy. Now that she had her sisters back with her, she wished she could wash the blood from under their fingernails, like she had so long ago. Brush their hair and tug their clothes into place and be blameless, be innocent. Go back to before she knew.

They didn’t speak again until they reached their destination.

Chris was working out of a borrowed office. He still had enough friends to call in a favor, and Emma and JJ walked to the back of Quincy Real Estate to find him ensconced in a small room decorated with photos of a blond woman flanked by two massive Great Danes. The nameplate on the desk readKATIE GREER.

“You don’t look much like a Katie,” Emma said as she entered, her voice too loud to her own ears. Chris looked up from his laptop. His expression was grim.

“Emma. Juliette,” he said, eyes tracking to JJ. “It would be best if you waited outside. Emma and I need to talk alone.”

“I’d like her here,” Emma said.

“I have to insist. This is a conversation that you want protected by privilege,” Chris said, and Emma wavered. She looked over at JJ.

“I’ll be right outside,” JJ said. Emma nodded, grateful, and JJ stepped into the hall, closing the door behind her.

“So what’s going on?” Emma asked.

“You should sit down,” Chris said.

“I’m fine standing,” Emma replied stiffly, both hands wrapped around her purse strap.

Chris adjusted his glasses, eyes on the tabletop. “Emma, I’m afraid you’re going to be arrested,” he said.

She’d expected it, and still she felt as if she’d been struck. Her balance faltered. She gripped the back of a chair for stability. She stepped around the side of the chair and sank into it. “Why? What—what do they have?”

“I don’t know the extent of the evidence they’ve collected,” Chris said. “I will, of course, find out as much as I can as quickly as I can so that we can resolve this, but I need you to stay calm. This isn’t the endof the world, and it isn’t a conviction. There’s still a long way to go, and while this isn’t going to be pleasant, you’re safe, you’re alive, and we’re going to get through this.”

“There must be something. Some reason they think…” Was it the affair? The emails to Addison?

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