The Last Sister (Columbia River)(60)

Zander’s mind spun. “How did it end up in the Fitches’ backyard?”

Her hands lifted and fell to her lap, her eyes shiny with tears.

“Zander.” Ava moved closer to him, her blue eyes warning. “She took evidence from a murder scene.”

He no longer cared that Ava wanted to handle the interview.

“I was completely shocked,” Emily added. “I’d stepped on it as I backed away from Sean. When I looked down, I knew what it was.”

“Then what?” he asked as Ava frowned at him.

“I picked it up and opened it, convinced I was seeing things. But it had his initials inside.” She blew out a breath. “I sat on the porch steps and just stared at it. I couldn’t think . . .”

“You sat for nearly twenty minutes in a murder scene?” Ava’s vocal pitch rose. Emily gave no sign she noticed.

“Until you said it, I had no idea I sat so long. I would have said a minute or two.” Emily pressed her eyes with her fingers. “It doesn’t make sense. How—”

Ava opened her mouth, but Zander held up a finger. “Emily, what scenarios ran through your head to answer how the pocket watch got there?”

She wouldn’t look at them. “I don’t know.”

“Who could have left it there?”

“I don’t know!”

Frustrated, Zander sat back. Ava slowly shook her head as they stared at each other.

Emily cleared her throat. “My aunts, I guess, my sister . . . my father’s killer . . . ,” she whispered, looking lost.

“Madison could have left it?” Ava asked.

“No. I meant Tara when I said ‘sister’—although I guess Madison could have found it somewhere.”

“Why do you say Tara over Madison? Madison’s a good friend of Lindsay. It makes sense that she could have left something behind in Lindsay’s house, and you said Tara hasn’t been around in years.”

“She was there.” Emily’s hands trembled.

Zander kept his questions calm and steady, but inside he wanted to drag the answers out of her. “Who was where?”

This watch could indicate who killed the Fitches.

Emily finally met his gaze. “Tara was there the night my father was killed,” she whispered. “She told everyone—even the police—that she had spent the night at a friend’s. But I saw her with someone else just beyond the yard in the woods.” Her shoulders slumped. “Oh God. That’s the second thing I’ve hidden from the police.”

He tried to pull her back to the present. “You think Tara has something to do with the pocket watch being at the Fitch home?”

“I don’t know.” Emily stood and threw up her hands, pacing the small room. “I don’t know anything! Everything is a mess!”

“Where is the pocket watch now?” Ava asked.

“At the mansion.”

“How about you and I go get it?”

Zander started to say he’d come along, but a look from Ava stopped him.

Am I still being too nice?

“I’ll stay here and talk to the sheriff,” he said instead, not knowing if Greer was even in the building. It didn’t matter. He wanted to review everything that Emily had just told them and figure out the implication of the appearance of a watch that had been missing for decades.

“Let’s go,” said Ava.





24

Outside, Emily drew deep breaths. Her nerves still quaked from the session, but there was a small sense of relief that she’d told someone she’d seen Tara at her father’s murder scene. Even if it made no sense to the FBI agents, it was good to have off her chest.

The pocket watch.

That was also a weight off her shoulders and conscience. She didn’t know why she hadn’t told the police about the watch. All she’d known was that she had been confused and afraid when she picked it up in the Fitch backyard. What was I afraid of?

Afraid of suggesting one of her relatives had been involved in a double murder?

The very idea that one of her family had been involved was ridiculous.

Finding the watch that morning had opened a door to painful memories, overwhelming her. According to Ava’s cell phone report, she’d been overwhelmed for nearly twenty minutes.

“I’ll drive,” Ava said as they strode through the county lot.

“Actually, I’d like to.”

Ava wrinkled her nose. “Do you think that’s a good idea?”

“I’m feeling better, and I’d welcome the distraction of concentrating on the road,” Emily admitted. Anything to get her present thoughts out of her head.

“Fine by me. I’ll make some calls while you drive.”

Emily guided her Honda down the narrow two-lane road. Ava was on her phone, making calls and frowning at various emails. Emily’s earlier stress started to drain away. But the pocket watch kept pulling her attention.

“I’m going to take Emily with me,” her father told her mother. “You’re too sick to look after her, and I don’t want to her to catch anything from Madison.”

Ten-year-old Emily hid behind the door, crossing her fingers. Her mother was in bed, and Madison was sound asleep beside her. Her sister’s cheeks were flushed, and sweat plastered her hair to her forehead as she clutched a big empty bowl in her sleep. She had thrown up twice.