Page 72 of We Are All Guilty Here

“Yes, of course I am. I wouldn’t be home alone with Paisley otherwise. We spend every Sunday together as a family. Morning mass, then the fellowship supper.”

“Okay.” Emmy gripped her thigh in a vain attempt to stop the shaking. The muscles were tight. She couldn’t get her brain to send a signal to stop it. “So, you tell the man in the truck yes, that you want the pine straw, then he starts spreading it around, and then what?”

“I went back inside. I checked on Paisley. I thought she was still in bed, but she wasn’t in her room. She was talking on her phone on the back deck.”

“Talking to whom?”

“Not talking—kids don’t talk. She was texting or doing Snap. I don’t know. I didn’t ask. I just told her to turn down her music.”

“Did she?”

Elijah shook his head again, but said, “I guess? I took a shower. When I came out, the music wasn’t on. She was talking to him. That Anthony guy.”

“Where was he standing?”

“In the backyard by the monkey grass area that rings the tree. He had some pine straw in his hands, but he was looking up at her, and I remember thinking that I didn’t like that. Didn’t like the way he was looking at her.”

Emmy crossed her legs at the knee, but she could still feel the tremble in her legs. “Was Paisley standing or sitting on the deck?”

“Leaning on the railing.” Elijah started shaking his head again. “I didn’t like that, either. She was still wearing her pajamas. The shorts were too tight across her bottom. You could practically see everything. Carol was going to talk to her about it. Paisley was too old to wear them anymore. I wanted her to dress more modestly.”

“How did Carol feel about that?”

“What does it matter how Carol felt?” he demanded. “You know what I was worried about. Paisley was sending the wrong signals. Look where it got her.”

Emmy tried to ease him out of that corner. “Does Paisley tend to stay in her pajamas all day over the weekends?”

“No, the rule is she has to be in real clothes by lunch.” He had another moment of insight. “That gives you an idea of the time, right? Carol left at quarter till ten, so it was after that, but before twelve thirty, which is when we have lunch.”

“Right,” Emmy said. “What about the landscaper? What was he wearing?”

“I told you I don’t—” He froze, his mouth hanging open. “A light-colored shirt. Tan, maybe. With a patch here.”

Emmy watched him touch his right hand to his left chest. “What color was the patch?”

Elijah squeezed his eyes shut, trying to remember. “It had green stitching on it, like a tree or bush. And his pants were light brown, too. That’s why I thought he was legit, because he looked like he worked on a landscaping crew.”

“Okay, good.” Emmy had uncrossed her legs. She could hear the heel of her boot tapping against the floor. She leaned forward in the chair. Tried to force the jackhammering to stop. “Now go back to when you saw Paisley and the man outside. Did you hear anything they said?”

“No, but Paisley was laughing. I didn’t like how it sounded. Fake, high-pitched. And then when I opened the door and walked out, they both stopped talking.”

“Did you say anything?”

“No, I didn’t have to. They knew what they were doing.” He wiped his hand with his mouth, clearly worked up. “Anthony finished spreading the pine straw. Paisley went inside the house. I told her she didn’t need to be flirting with men like that. I was going to talk to Carol about it later, but then her worthless brother had some kind of emergency and I …”

Emmy watched him wipe his mouth again. She asked, “What was Paisley’s response when you admonished her?”

“She threw a tantrum. Said I had embarrassed her. That I didn’t understand. But I understood exactly what was going on.You tease a grown man, you get the consequences.” His hands had clenched into fists on the table. “And I was right, wasn’t I? She flirted with this guy and now God only knows what he’s doing to her.”

Emmy waited for Elijah to calm down, but he didn’t.

“Why are you even here?” he demanded. “Your father was murdered yesterday morning. Why aren’t you with your family?”

Emmy felt her throat clench. “My father would want me here, Mr. Walker. One of the last things he told me was to call the FBI. He wanted me to find Paisley.”

“Really?” he asked. “Like you did such a great job finding those dead girls in the pond?”

Emmy pressed her lips together.

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