“Yeah, you clearly did more than that! Apparently, you like it pretty rough considering we found your skin under her damn nails!” Sheriff Ross yelled as he stood up.
“I saw her the night she disappeared! I saw her walking and offered her a ride. We parked. We had sex. That was the end of it!”
“Yeah, then you drove out to the woods by Route 13 and dumped her body, didn’t you?”
“No, I didn’t!” Hank snapped. “She got out of the car and took off. She said she had to go meet a friend and talk. That was the last time I saw her! I swear to God! I did not kill her!” Hank cried out.
“Do you not see how bad this looks right now? Man, if you don’t tell me more, you’re going to fry for this,” Sheriff Ross barked at him.
“If I knew who killed her, I would tell you! The truth is I hadn’t seen Blair in a year. I knew she was back, then I saw her walking. It just happened and that was the end of it. I could never hurt her. I could never do that to her.”
“You mean crush her skull? Is that what you mean? Blunt force trauma to the back of the head was the cause of death.” Sheriff Ross nodded. “I guess you like it really, really rough.”
“Stop it! I didn’t do this! I did not kill Blair!”
“Then who did?”
“I don’t know!” Hank screamed. “If I knew anything, I would tell you. I cared about Blair. I care about Emily, too,” Hank said. Tears welled in his eyes.
“You’ve got a funny way of showing it,” Sheriff Ross scoffed. “We don’t have enough to hold you, so consider yourself lucky. But I will give you two pieces of advice: Don’t leave town, and I’d probably stay far, far away from Emily Keller.”
“I can’t just abandon her now.”
“Fine, go ahead; go and see her. Let’s see how well that works out for you,” Sheriff Ross said as he turned toward the door. “Maybe she’ll save the taxpayers money and kill you herself; no hair off my back.”
***
Hank turned the wheel of his truck, pulling into the driveway of Emily’s house. His headlights danced across the grass, illuminating a plethora of garments scattered all over the front lawn.
“What the fuck?” Hank jerked his key from the ignition and stepped out of his truck, slamming the door. He made his way across the lawn, grabbing his damp clothes as he made his way toward the front door. Hank stepped on the porch and reached forward, grabbing the handle.
Locked.
“God damn it.” Hank sighed, throwing his clothes down at his feet. “Emily, please open the door!” Hank called out as he banged his fist against the wooden surface. “Emily, please!” Hank cried out. Hank stepped back as he heard the deadbolt turn on the other side. The front door swung open as Emily glared back at him, the porch light shimmering down on her as she crossed her arms over her chest. “Please, just let me explain.”
“Your clothes on the lawn. I think that’s an explanation enough for the both of us.” Emily nodded.
“Can we not just talk about this? I didn’t … This never should have happened. I am so, so sorry,” Hank said, hanging his head down in shame.
“You’re sorry you got caught, Hank,” Emily said. “I have to say you’ve got some brass balls to be standing on my front porch right now.”
“Emily, please.”
“No, just stop, okay?” Emily said as her blood boiled inside of her. “You don’t get to explain, all right? The fact that you’ve been lying to me this whole time was just what I needed. You were right, Hank. I do need to take care of myself. And I’m going to start by kicking your disgusting, egotistical ass to the curb. Get your shit and get off my lawn. Lucky for you, the burning pit out back wasn’t big enough for all of it.”
“You burned my stuff?” Hank asked, his eyes widening.
“Yeah, I did.” Emily nodded with a shrug. “Now, if you ever come near me again, I’ll kill you. If you even look at me, or speak a single syllable to me ever again, I’ll stab you in the fucking face,” Emily growled as she stepped back into her house and slammed the door. Emily turned the deadbolt and shuffled forward, rounding the corner and stepping into the kitchen. Emily sped toward the refrigerator and pulled the door open. Her hand shot inside, wrapping around the bottle of red wine. Emily placed the cork between her teeth and pulled it off, spitting it into the sink before taking a long sip from the bottle. Emily closed her eyes as euphoria filled her, the bittersweet wine coating her dry throat as she felt the heat rise in her chest.
This wasn’t about finding Blair anymore.
This was about finding Blair’s killer. Where would she even start? There were so many suspects and so little time.
Professor Alden.
Maybe he wanted to keep their affair a secret?
Mitch, her own father.
What if she was going to tell Emily about the abuse that she had suffered?
Hank?
Maybe she was going to expose his cheating?
All that mattered was the truth. All that mattered now was to get justice for Blair. And Emily was going to do whatever it took to get it.
A mother’s love knows no bounds.
A mother scorned has no limits.
the man
Emily parted her lips as she struggled to control her breathing. Her heart pounded faster and faster as she reached forward and pressed her finger on the doorbell of the McCallister house. After what she had learned about Hank, she was now convinced that Zoey was lying. There was no way
