Emma stared at Mrs. Mercer. Her face was so kind, open and giving. All of a sudden, she felt a swell of sympathy for her. Your husband is cheating on you, she wanted to say. And I think he killed your daughter.
“Thanks,” she murmured, standing on her tiptoes and wrapping her arms around Sutton’s mom. When she pulled away, Mrs. Mercer looked surprised, but also touched.
Sadness settled in my chest. It was, I realized, exactly what I’d yearned for the last night I was alive, when I was lost in the canyon. All I’d wanted was the safety of my mom and dad.
Little had I known that my dad was the one I should fear the most.
20
WHERE IT ALL BEGAN
Sunday evening, Emma pulled into the dusty parking lot of Sabino Canyon. As she cut the engine, she looked at Sutton’s Volvo with disgust. Normally, Sutton’s car calmed her—there was something so special about the shiny chrome, the buttery leather, even the effort she had to put into turning the steering wheel since automatic steering hadn’t been invented when this car was built. But now, all she could think of was Mr. Mercer behind the wheel, using this car to mow down Thayer. The police had fingerprinted the car when it was impounded last week. At the time, Emma had thought nothing of it when Quinlan said the only prints in the car belonged to Sutton and her father. But she knew better now.
The lot was empty and dark, the only light from the half moon shining overhead. Emma locked the Volvo behind her and made her way across the gravel to the bench where she’d sat on her very first night in Tucson. The world had felt so full of promise then. She’d thought she’d meet the twin she never knew she had and maybe, just maybe, become part of Sutton’s family. How ironic that her new life had begun in the exact same place her sister’s life had ended—and that she’d only become part of Sutton’s family because Mr. Mercer killed his adoptive daughter.
All day, Sutton’s dad had continued to be sharp with Emma, and so had Grandma. The two of them had been snippy with each other, too, making everyone else in the family uncomfortable. By the time Grandma had left, she and Mr. Mercer were barely speaking. Grandma had given Emma a big hug before she got in her car, squeezing her tight. Then she’d leaned in and whispered, “Don’t go getting into any trouble.”
Emma hadn’t known what to make of Sutton’s grandmother’s warning. Did Grandma know what her son had done to Sutton? But that seemed inconceivable. Grandma might have been tough as nails and as prickly as a cactus, but she wasn’t a killer.
Emma kept picturing Mr. Mercer hitting Thayer with Sutton’s car, then abandoning it for the cops to find. Had he disposed of it before or after he’d killed Sutton? How exactly had he killed Sutton? And where had he stashed her body?
I was wondering all the same things. And I kept racking my brain for clues that my dad had been having an affair. Had I ever seen him skulking around, acting weird? I remember having a flicker of us not being so close anymore—could that be why? Maybe I’d sensed something was off before Thayer and I had come upon my dad and the woman at Sabino Canyon. Maybe I’d even confronted my dad, and then kept my distance. But frustratingly, I couldn’t put my finger on a specific memory.
Footsteps crunched toward the bench, but Emma didn’t flinch. She’d texted Ethan on her way over, asking if he’d meet her here. His and Nisha’s houses were just a few blocks away. He sat down next to her, slipped his hand into hers, and tipped his face skyward.
“How are you holding up?” he asked softly.
“Not great,” Emma admitted.
“You look exhausted.” Ethan shut his eyes. “I’m guessing you didn’t sleep at all?”
Emma shook her head. “How can I? He’s right down the hall. I think he tried to come into my room last night,” she said, fiddling with the cuff of her jacket.
Ethan’s jaw dropped. “But he didn’t?”
“No. Drake stopped him.”
For a while they were just silent. A brisk wind whipped through the canyon, brushing Emma’s hair off her shoulders. She glanced at the myriad of trails leading up into the mountain range. It was so beautiful in daylight, but now it looked like a hulking mass, ready to swallow whole anyone who dared hike it.
“I can’t believe it all happened here. I can’t believe that Mr. Mercer hit Thayer, then went after his daughter right here,” Emma whispered, looking around cautiously, like Mr. Mercer might leap out at them at any moment. But aside from a roadrunner darting across the lot, they were alone. “I need real proof. Only…how?”
Ethan swallowed, looking sick to his stomach. “There has to be some hard evidence somewhere,” he said. “Research he did on you before contacting you. Or maybe someone else knows about what he did—like this woman he’s having an affair with. Maybe he wrote an incriminating email. Or maybe he plans to see this woman again, and we could follow them.”
Emma nodded. “She was there that night in the canyon. What if she helped him cover it up? If I could figure out who this woman is, maybe I could get her to corroborate the story.” Then she frowned. “But how do I find out that stuff?”
Ethan thought for a moment. “Does your dad use Gmail?”
Emma shrugged. “I think so.”
“He might have a calendar on there.” Ethan asked for Sutton’s cell phone, logged into her email, and then looked at the shared calendars she had with the rest of the Mercer family. “Here,” he said, showing her the screen. “Your dad shares his work schedule with your mom and you. It looks like he’s out of the office Thursday afternoon for a conference.”