I’ll ask her to leave.”
“Aunt Jules is here?”
Dillon nodded. “She’s worried about you.”
Tears rolled over her bottom lashes. “Can she come in?”
“Not right now. I think you and I need to talk first. Sometimes it’s easier to talk to a stranger. I want you to know that you’re safe here. No one can hurt you.”
Emily’s voice cracked. “Is…is he really dead? It wasn’t a dream, was it?” She sounded hopeful.
“It wasn’t a dream. Victor Montgomery is dead.”
She squeezed her eyes shut. “It was so awful.”
“What was awful?”
“I…I saw Victor. He was…dead.”
“You walked in after he was killed?”
Emily took a deep breath. “Oh God, it’s true. It’s all my fault.”
“Why do you say that?”
Julia tensed, touching the window with both hands. “No, Em. No.” But she remembered that Dillon was on the side of the defense this time. He wouldn’t be testifying against Emily. Still, she ran through all possible scenarios. Maybe having Emily committed, at least temporarily, would help. Protect her. Legal precedents churned in her head and she almost missed Emily’s next words.
“I planned it. Exactly like that. I thought of it, I pictured it in my mind. But it was so much worse, so much blood.”
“Oh God,” Julia said, blinking back tears. She turned to Connor. “Don’t let her confess.”
“She’s not,” he said, not taking his eyes from Emily’s face.
“How—”
“Shh.”
Dillon looked Emily in the eye. “Did you kill Victor?”
She shook her head violently. “No, God no. No. But I wanted to! I wanted to so bad. You don’t know what it was like living with him. And I thought about it, about killing him. About him being dead. About how it would feel to take away his power over me.”
Dillon took Emily’s hand and squeezed. “Emily, this is important. Did you ask someone to kill Victor for you?”
“No, of course not.”
“Were you threatened in any way? Did someone threaten to hurt you or someone else if you didn’t let them into the house?”
Her expression was confused. “You mean did I let someone in to kill Victor?” She shook her head vigorously. “No.”
“If you were threatened, I promise around-the-clock police protection. No one can hurt you in here. We have a guard outside, this room is secure.”
She kept shaking her head. In a small voice she said, “I didn’t let anyone in yesterday. No one threatened me.”
Julia’s heart dropped. It would have been a good defense. No jury would convict a teenager who was scared and let in a killer. And as she thought it, she knew it couldn’t have happened. Santos’s men would never have left a witness alive.
“Did you try to kill yourself last night?” Dillon asked.
Emily’s jaw dropped and she looked at Dillon directly for the first time. “Kill myself? Absolutely not. Never. I didn’t—Why would you think that?”
“You took several Xanax on top of a substantial amount of alcohol.”
She shook her head. “No. I didn’t—I hate that crap. I took Tylenol.” But she averted her eyes. Why was she lying?
“Before or after you drank a pint of rum?”
“After.”
“And?”
She closed her eyes, bit her lip. “I was drunk. I didn’t try to kill myself. Believe me, I didn’t…I didn’t want to. I was—I don’t know. I just couldn’t believe what I saw. I was scared but numb. Like I wasn’t in my body, that everything was in my head, but I knew it wasn’t. I’m not explaining this very well.”
“What did you see?”
“I—” She stopped.
“Tell me from the beginning, if it’s easier.”
“Yesterday afternoon is so fuzzy.”
“Tell me how you remember it.”
“I got home from school, but I didn’t go into the house. I just sat in the garage. For over an hour. Just sat there.”
“Why didn’t you want to go in?”
“Victor was home.”
“But you have to be home because of your probation, correct?”
She nodded. “I have to be inside
“Aunt Jules is here?”
Dillon nodded. “She’s worried about you.”
Tears rolled over her bottom lashes. “Can she come in?”
“Not right now. I think you and I need to talk first. Sometimes it’s easier to talk to a stranger. I want you to know that you’re safe here. No one can hurt you.”
Emily’s voice cracked. “Is…is he really dead? It wasn’t a dream, was it?” She sounded hopeful.
“It wasn’t a dream. Victor Montgomery is dead.”
She squeezed her eyes shut. “It was so awful.”
“What was awful?”
“I…I saw Victor. He was…dead.”
“You walked in after he was killed?”
Emily took a deep breath. “Oh God, it’s true. It’s all my fault.”
“Why do you say that?”
Julia tensed, touching the window with both hands. “No, Em. No.” But she remembered that Dillon was on the side of the defense this time. He wouldn’t be testifying against Emily. Still, she ran through all possible scenarios. Maybe having Emily committed, at least temporarily, would help. Protect her. Legal precedents churned in her head and she almost missed Emily’s next words.
“I planned it. Exactly like that. I thought of it, I pictured it in my mind. But it was so much worse, so much blood.”
“Oh God,” Julia said, blinking back tears. She turned to Connor. “Don’t let her confess.”
“She’s not,” he said, not taking his eyes from Emily’s face.
“How—”
“Shh.”
Dillon looked Emily in the eye. “Did you kill Victor?”
She shook her head violently. “No, God no. No. But I wanted to! I wanted to so bad. You don’t know what it was like living with him. And I thought about it, about killing him. About him being dead. About how it would feel to take away his power over me.”
Dillon took Emily’s hand and squeezed. “Emily, this is important. Did you ask someone to kill Victor for you?”
“No, of course not.”
“Were you threatened in any way? Did someone threaten to hurt you or someone else if you didn’t let them into the house?”
Her expression was confused. “You mean did I let someone in to kill Victor?” She shook her head vigorously. “No.”
“If you were threatened, I promise around-the-clock police protection. No one can hurt you in here. We have a guard outside, this room is secure.”
She kept shaking her head. In a small voice she said, “I didn’t let anyone in yesterday. No one threatened me.”
Julia’s heart dropped. It would have been a good defense. No jury would convict a teenager who was scared and let in a killer. And as she thought it, she knew it couldn’t have happened. Santos’s men would never have left a witness alive.
“Did you try to kill yourself last night?” Dillon asked.
Emily’s jaw dropped and she looked at Dillon directly for the first time. “Kill myself? Absolutely not. Never. I didn’t—Why would you think that?”
“You took several Xanax on top of a substantial amount of alcohol.”
She shook her head. “No. I didn’t—I hate that crap. I took Tylenol.” But she averted her eyes. Why was she lying?
“Before or after you drank a pint of rum?”
“After.”
“And?”
She closed her eyes, bit her lip. “I was drunk. I didn’t try to kill myself. Believe me, I didn’t…I didn’t want to. I was—I don’t know. I just couldn’t believe what I saw. I was scared but numb. Like I wasn’t in my body, that everything was in my head, but I knew it wasn’t. I’m not explaining this very well.”
“What did you see?”
“I—” She stopped.
“Tell me from the beginning, if it’s easier.”
“Yesterday afternoon is so fuzzy.”
“Tell me how you remember it.”
“I got home from school, but I didn’t go into the house. I just sat in the garage. For over an hour. Just sat there.”
“Why didn’t you want to go in?”
“Victor was home.”
“But you have to be home because of your probation, correct?”
She nodded. “I have to be inside
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