TWENTY-SEVEN
Josie caught a whiff of spoiled food as she entered Dani’s home through the back door. The evidence response team had processed the place, but the partially cooked pasta and salad remained where they’d been since the night Dani and Cassidy were taken. Turner stood in the middle of the living room. He was back in his suit, jacket and all, despite the heat. For a few moments, she watched him. A slow turn brought him a few feet from the blood congealed on the corner of the coffee table and dried in the carpet. He didn’t react. Not outwardly. They were more alike than she ever imagined. Like her, he pushed scary feelings so far down that his insides were nothing more than an emotional pressure cooker. There was something so defeated about the slouch of his shoulders, the unfocused look in his eyes, the way his feet seemed rooted in place, that made him look like a ghost haunting the house. In a way, she supposed he was.
Without looking directly at her, he said, “I’m guessing there’s no news, or you would have told me already.”
“Nothing yet.”
“Palmer said I could enter the place. I called the landlord, too.”
“Since you’re here,” Josie said, “let me know if there’s anything you think is missing.”
“Not my first rodeo, Quinn,” he said. “I know how this works. You don’t have to walk me through it.”
She followed him through to the kitchen where he started cleaning up. “Turner, have you ever seen Dustin Emmer here in Denton?”
He froze, salad bowl poised over the trash bin. “He was here?”
“We think so. He didn’t come right out and say it but admitted he knew where you lived. Implied he might have been here.”
He dumped the salad into the garbage and took the bowl to the sink. “If I’d seen him, I would have confronted him.”
“He’s a real piece of work,” Josie said. “You were right to help Zara get away from him.”
Turner picked up the pot on the stove and stared at its contents. “You have something to say about Zara?”
“You know what, Turner,” Josie said sharply, exhaustion wearing away her internal filter. “I think you’re the one who’s got something to say, so just spit it out.”
He said nothing. For the next five minutes, she watched him clean and straighten up the kitchen in stubborn silence. Josie folded her arms over her chest and leaned against the fridge. The flyer for the Denton East High School art show that had taken place in June caught her attention. She ran a finger along the front of it, wanting to take it from the fridge, open it and search for Wren’s name.
She realized that the kitchen had gone silent. Turner walked over and took the flyer from beneath the magnet, staring down at it.
“Cassidy’s very talented,” Josie said.
“Yeah,” he replied hoarsely.
He was so shut down, so far away, Josie wanted to coax him back into the moment. She had more questions and she needed him present. Pointing to the flyer, she said, “We think Wren was showcased at the art show, but she didn’t tell us about it.”
“That’s kids,” Turner said. “You’re damned if you do, damned if you don’t. I missed this one. Work. Always goddamn work. Just think, your new kid already hates you. You don’t even have to make the effort.”
There he was.
“Have you looked in Cassidy’s room?”
“Take this.” He shoved the flyer against her chest. “I don’t even want to look at it.”
Josie stuffed it into her pocket. Turner started going through the cabinets, searching until he found a can of carpet stain remover and a roll of paper towels. She followed him into the living room and watched as he knelt and sprayed the drops of blood. He tried blotting them, but they weren’t coming out.
“You need peroxide,” she told him.
With a heavy sigh, he dragged himself to his feet and trudged up the stairs to the second floor. Josie went after him, feeling her lack of sleep with every step, her body aching. After this, she’d go home and get some rest. “Turner, you said Zara has a little girl. Is her father in the picture?”
“No,” he grunted, disappearing into the bathroom.
“There’s no one else besides Dustin Emmer who might be looking for her? Might target you for helping her start over?”
“Penny’s dad died when she was a toddler,” he answered, rifling through the bathroom closet.
“When you were still living in Alden, did Dani ever say anything to you about Emmer? Had she seen him lurking around? Had any encounters with him?”
