“You had parents who respected each other, who loved you. Your mother not only took care of you, but Justin, too, because your sister was too busy to be bothered with a child.”
Lucy had to let that pass, because if she defended Nelia or Nina or any other parent, Danielle would get angry and Lucy wouldn’t be able to gain her trust.
“You killed Justin to punish Andrew and Nelia. But you punished me, too. And my mother and father. And my other brothers and sister. And all the kids in my school who had to face the dark truth that one of their classmates and friends was dead. That one of their friends—the happy, joyful, smart Justin Stanton—had been murdered.”
“This isn’t about that,” Danielle said, but she averted her eyes, just for a moment.
“Look at me!” Lucy ordered.
Danielle straightened and scowled, but she looked at Lucy.
“I speak four languages fluently, and several others I can pass with. I wanted to be a linguist, or go into diplomacy. I was a championship swimmer—I won dozens of blue ribbons and swam for my college team. I thought I could put Justin’s murder behind me, but I couldn’t. I became an FBI agent. You did that, Danielle. You made me an FBI agent.”
It was clear Danielle hadn’t expected this conversation, nor had she seen the impact of her actions on anyone but the immediate family.
“My life changed the minute you killed my best friend. My mother—Justin’s grandma—cried every day for a year. She aged. My sister Nelia didn’t speak to me until last year—not once—because in the back of her mind, I was partly to blame for Justin’s death. Why? Because I got sick that day and my mom couldn’t keep Justin. When Carina fell asleep on the couch the night you climbed in through Justin’s bedroom window, it was because she was up late studying. She was in college, on a full scholarship, and she had to maintain good grades to keep that scholarship. That’s why she fell asleep after eleven at night. That’s why she didn’t hear you take her nephew out the window.
“My brother Patrick was a major league baseball prospect. Instead of pursuing a baseball career—something he had dreamed about ever since he could throw a ball—he joined the police academy and became a detective. My brother Dillon was in medical school and stayed longer in order to become a psychiatrist—a forensic psychiatrist—because he had a deep need to understand why people kill children. All this, because of you.”
As Lucy spoke, she was inching closer to Danielle. Danielle still had the gun. The gun was still pointed at Lucy, but Lucy had to take the risk. She might anger Danielle so much that she just pressed the trigger to make Lucy shut up, but Lucy had to push because this was the only way she could save Kevin’s life.
“Your selfish, immature, criminal acts touched all of us. I was seven and a half years old and I faced murder for the first time. Justin was closer to me than my own brothers and sisters. You took him away from his parents—and they suffered, so I’m sure you’re very proud of yourself—but you took him away from me. And I suffered. Your actions have far more consequences than your small, petty, selfish mind can process.”
“You do not know me! You have no idea what I have suffered!” Now Danielle was shaking. But she wasn’t looking at Kevin or Nina or Tony. She was looking only at Lucy. As if seeing her for the first time. Or maybe seeing herself.
“I have made my career out of studying sexual predators like Paul Borell who raped and murdered your son. I put men like Borell in prison—and in the grave if they fight back. I know your pain. I have felt it. You want other mothers to feel the pain that you feel. You could have stopped it. You could have gotten help, you could have forgiven your ex-husband, you could have done anything else but kill. Yet you choose to kill.
“What do you think Matthew would think of you now? He would have been thirty last week.”
“How—”
Danielle’s voice cracked. Lucy took one more step toward her.
“Do you think he would be proud of his mother? The woman who loved him? Or do you think he would be horrified that you killed four little boys in his name?”
“I—”
The gun dipped and Lucy pounced.
She leapt forward and grabbed Danielle’s gun hand, tightening her grip on Danielle’s wrist so hard she heard a bone crack. The gun fell from her hand as Danielle screamed in rage. She tried to hit Lucy with her free hand, but Lucy had adrendaline on her side. And her own inner rage fueling her. She pulled Danielle forward, keeping her off balance, and pushed her to the ground. She kicked the gun away with her left foot, then put her right knee firmly on Danielle’s back.
“Backup! Now!” she shouted. “And medics, stat!”
Danielle fought and cried underneath Lucy. Lucy didn’t dare take a hand off the thrashing woman to retrieve the cuffs out of her back pocket.
It didn’t take more than thirty seconds before Ken Swan and Tim Nelson came into the room. Lucy held Danielle down while Swan cuffed her. Nelson went over to Kevin and felt his pulse. “I feel a very faint pulse. I need medics up here!”
Two other agents came in.
Nina was sobbing and trying to reach her son. “Get them out!” Nelson ordered.
“I need to be with my baby! Kevin!”
“Get them out!” Nelson repeated.
Lucy searched Danielle. She found two syringes, one full and one empty. As soon as the medics came in, she handled them the vials. “She drugged the boy, you may need to confirm with what, but in the past she used a narcotic, likely chloral hydrate. We need to get him on a respirator stat.”
The paramedic said, “I have a doctor online. We need room in here.”
Ken wrestled a struggling Danielle Sharpe down the stairs. Nina and Tony were holding each other on the couch of their living room, two agents and a medic with them.
“This is your fault, Nina! You don’t deserve to have a son, you don’t deserve to have anyone!”
Ken pushed Danielle through the door. Lucy was behind them.
She’d found Justin’s killer.
She stopped walking and sat on the lawn, her back against the lone tree. She couldn’t take another step for fear of collapsing. She just needed a minute. She ripped off the mic and took the receiver out of her ear. She didn’t want to talk to anyone, didn’t want to listen to the chatter. She wanted—needed—silence.
You found Justin’s killer.
It wasn’t peace she felt.
She felt satisfaction that she had stopped a killer and saved Kevin’s life. Relief that Justin’s murder had finally been solved. And, yes, deep down, a modicum of peace.
But mostly, she felt a deep, numbing sadness.
She didn’t know how long she sat there, but she was grateful everyone let her be. Everything she said to Danielle was the truth, but it wasn’t something that she consciously thought about all the time. When she did remember Justin and her childhood, it was always bittersweet. Bringing it all up, talking about it, reminded Lucy of everything she’d lost because one person made one bad decision that spiraled into many bad choices. Evil choices.