Page 70 of We Are All Guilty Here

FBI: ATLANTA – GEORGIA BUREAU OF INVESTIGATION: North Falls, Georgia (Clifton County; SW) Missing minor female 14 yo – possible stranger abduction

“Look at it another way,” Chaz said. “It could help you launch your second act. You’d be rolling in the Bens on the speaking circuit. Strutting onto the stage in your leather jacket and your badass swagger.”

“You don’t have to swagger if it’s true.” Jude slipped on her glasses. She clicked open the notice. Scrolled through the details. Paisley Walker. Blonde hair. Blue eyes. 5’2” 110 pounds. Last seen wearing a long-sleeved Taylor Swift Eras Tour blue hoodie with black leggings and white Skechers sneakers with pink laces. Left the family home by bike. Disappeared between the hours of seven and seven thirty.

Jude looked at the time. San Francisco was three hours behind Georgia. The girl had been missing for five hours. Hopefully the Atlanta bureau already had boots on the ground. North Falls was a small community in the south-western part of the state. They didn’t have the resources for this kind of investigation.

Chaz continued, “From what I’ve heard, if you sign up with a speaker’s agency—”

Jude turned the receiver away from her ear as she clicked on a link to the local newspaper. The front page of theNorth Falls Heraldfilled the top half of the monitor.

PAISLEY WALKER STILL MISSING

COP KILLER IN CUSTODY

Her heart felt like a fist pounding inside of her chest. She had to open her mouth to breathe. The photograph below the headline wasn’t of the missing girl, but of a sheriff’s deputy. The woman was leaning over the body of an elderly man. Blood had sprayed into her face. There was something haunting about her expression. She looked utterly alone. Jude read the caption—

Despite witnessing the murder of her father, Chief Deputy Emmy Lou Clifton is still leading the search for Paisley Walker …

“Jude?” Chaz said.

She took off her glasses. Her hand was shaking. “What did you say?”

“I asked if there’s anything I can help you with.”

“Yes.” Jude studied the photo again. “Who’s our guy in Atlanta?”

CHAPTER TEN

Emmy sat across from Elijah Walker, Paisley’s father. They were in the police station this time instead of the family’s home in west North Falls. The insurance broker was dressed in the white button-up shirt and dark gray pants he’d been wearing when he’d left for work yesterday morning.

“I can’t—” Elijah’s voice caught. “I can’t remember anything about him.”

She looked at her watch. It was twelve-sixteen in the morning. They had passed the seventeen-hour mark since Paisley had been taken.

“I don’t know what you want from me,” Elijah said.

Emmy found herself incapable of looking away from her watch. Dried blood was caked into the crown. Fifteen hours had passed since her father had died. She could barely blink without seeing his face.

“Ms. Clifton?” Elijah asked.

Emmy took a deep breath before looking back up. “It’s Chief Clifton, Mr. Walker. I need you to walk me through your morning again.”

He shook his head. “What’s the point? I’ve told you this same story a million times. You should be out looking—”

“Everyone is out looking for Paisley. The entire sheriff’s department, every force in the quad-city area, the fire department’s search and rescue, the Georgia Bureau of Investigation, the Highway Patrol, and every jurisdiction within a 500-mile radius.” Emmy clasped her hand over her watch. She could feelthe heat from the glass against her palm. “I’m here talking to you because what you saw yesterday morning could end up being very important.”

“I don’t know if I even saw—” He rubbed his face with his hands. “It might not even be his truck. Do you know how many trucks—”

“Mr. Walker.” Emmy made herself let go of her watch. She placed her hands flat on the table. Her leg started shaking. She struggled to get her anxiety under control. “We need to reset here. I know you’re frustrated, and I know you want your daughter back, but I promise you, the best way to make that happen is to walk me through what you saw yesterday morning.”

“It was—” He shook his head again. “A black truck. An older model with a bad muffler.”

Emmy could only think of Adam’s truck, but it was light green and very distinctive, with a front end like Tow Mater from the PixarCarsmovie. “When you say older model, do you mean like last century or—”

“I’m not a truck expert. I wasn’t even paying attention. I was on my phone.”

This was new information. “Who were you calling?”

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