Now
Daphne was worried about Emma. That wasn’t anything new, of course. She’d spent most of the last fourteen years worried about her in one way or another. She hadn’t wanted to leave Emma on the couch after finding her collapsed outside the carriage house, but she also hadn’t wanted to explain her presence either to her sister or to the police.
She’d thought she was in control of the situation. She’d been wrong. At least Emma was safe for now.
She clucked her tongue to Tigger, the rambunctious goldendoodle she was walking. She had three daily clients now, along with a handful of others she’d done one-off walks for on referral; her credentials were flawless, her testimonials glowing, and it had never been hard to get business. She drove close to Emma’s neighborhood with the dogs each day so she could walk past several times without raising too much suspicion.
She’d thought herself so very clever. But if she’d just knocked on the door that first day in town, told Emma everything, would any of this have even happened?
She steadied herself with a deep breath. Things had not played out the way she had hoped. But there was no reason to think Emma was in imminent danger. And she could get things under control again. She put the phone away as she walked past the house, keeping to the other side of the street. There were two police cruisers parked in the courtyard, and she could see the edge of a flapping piece of yellow crime scene tape over the carriage house door. Earlier, walking Domino the lab, she had seen officers carrying boxes out of both buildings.
The police had never searched the carriage house thoroughly after their parents died. There had been no reason. The carriage house had been locked, left undisturbed. Nothing but tools out there. A cursory check, that was all. But of course, now that would change. They would search.
Daphne had thought that she could take her time. Make the arrangements she needed to. She would tell Emma everything, but only once the pieces were in place.
She hadn’t anticipated Nathan dying. In the grand plan, the one that was more fantasy than intention, he was removed from the picture, of course. He was no good for Emma, and Daphne had thought about ways to ensure that she was free of him. Not like this, though.
Tigger bounced at the end of his lead. She walked him back to his home, handed him off to his very blond and very distracted owner, and walked to her car. She pulled up her older sister’s number. Her last four calls had gone to voice mail, but this time, JJ answered.
“Daphne,” JJ said in a strangled voice.
“Is Emma with you?” Daphne asked.
“Daphne, Nathan’s dead,” JJ said. She sounded like she was barely holding things together. Daphne pinched the bridge of her nose.
“I know. Where’s Emma?”
“She just left the hospital with Gabriel Mahoney,” JJ said.
Daphne blinked, unsure how to react to that. Optics aside, she supposed that wasn’t the worst place for Emma to be right now. “What happened last night?” she asked.
Silence. Then, “I fucked up.”
Daphne sighed. “I’m going to send you an address. Meet me there in an hour.”
“What are we going to do?” JJ asked, sounding lost.
“Just be there,” Daphne said, and hung up.