The Good Daughter

“That’s a solvent, not a lubricant.” She told Charlie, “I thought we could spend some time together at the farmhouse.”

Charlie did a double take. She could not imagine why her sister would want to spend two seconds at that detestable place. The night before Sam had left for Stanford, she had made a not completely unfunny joke about the most efficient way to burn it to the ground.

Ben shifted the gear into drive. He made a tight U-turn around a cluster of parked cars. BMWs. Audis. Mercedes. Charlie hoped none of Rusty’s mourners boosted them.

“Shit,” Ben muttered.

Two police cars were parked on the median by the exit. Charlie recognized Jonah Vickery, Greg Brenner, and most of the other cops from the middle school. They were waiting to do the funeral escort, leaning against their cruisers, smoking cigarettes.

They recognized Charlie, too.

Jonah made circles with his fingers and put them to his eyes. The rest of the gang joined in, laughing like hyenas as they made raccoon eyes in honor of Charlie’s bruises.

“Fuckers.” Ben grabbed the handle and rolled down the window.

“Babe,” Charlie said, alarmed.

He leaned out the window, fist raised. “Motherfuckers.”

“Ben!” Charlie tried to pull him back in. He was almost yelling. What the hell had gotten into her passive husband? “Ben, what are—”

“Go fuck yourselves.” Ben flipped them the bird with both hands. “Assholes.”

The cops were no longer laughing. They stared Ben down as the truck pulled out onto the highway.

“Are you crazy?” Charlie demanded. She was supposed to be the unhinged one. “They could beat your ass.”

“Let them.”

“Let them kill you?” Charlie asked. “Jesus, Ben. They’re dangerous. Like sharks. With switchblades.”

Sam said, “Surely not switchblades? They’re illegal.”

Charlie felt a strangled groan die in her throat.

Ben rolled the window back up. “I’m so sick of this fucking place.” He wrenched the gearshift into third, then pushed it into fourth as he sped up the highway.

Charlie stared at the empty road ahead.

He had never been sick of this place before.

“Well.” Sam cleared her throat. “I love living in New York. The culture. The arts. The restaurants.”

“I couldn’t live up north,” Ben said, as if entertaining the thought. “Maybe Atlanta.”

Sam said, “I’m sure the public defender’s office would be happy to have you.”

Charlie glared at her sister, mouthing a “What the fuck?”

Sam shrugged, her expression unreadable.

Ben loosened his tie. He unbuttoned his collar. “I’ve done my time for the greater good. I want to join the dark side.”

Charlie could almost feel her mind boggling. “What?”

“I’ve been thinking about it for a while,” Ben said. “I’m tired of being a poor civil servant. I want to make some money. I want to own a boat.”

Charlie pressed together her lips, the same as she had done when Lenore told her she was moving to Florida. Ben was generally easy-going about most things, but Charlie had learned that his mind, once made up, was not likely to change. He had clearly made up his mind about changing careers. Maybe he had made up his mind about leaving. There was something different about him. He seemed relaxed, almost giddy, like a great burden had been lifted from his shoulders.

Charlie assumed that the burden was her.

Sam offered, “We have some Atlanta firms we work with in cases of criminal litigation. I could certainly write some letters of recommendation.”

Charlie glared at her sister again.

“Thanks. I’ll let you know after I do some research.” Ben unknotted his tie. The material made a thwip sound as he pulled it through his collar. He tossed it behind the seat. “Kelly confessed on the hospital tape.”

“Jesus!” Charlie’s voice was high enough to break glass. “Ben, you can’t tell us that.”

“You’ve still got spousal privilege and her—” He laughed. “God, Sam, you scared the shit out of Coin. I could practically hear the crap coming out of his ass when you started to parry with the judge.”

Charlie grabbed his arm. “What is wrong with you? You could get fired for—”

“I resigned last night.”

Charlie let her hand drop.

Sam asked Ben, “The video—”

“Shit,” Charlie whispered.

Sam said, “What do you think? Is she guilty?”

“Without a doubt, she’s guilty. Forensics backs it up. She tested positive for gunpowder residue on her hand, the sleeve of her shirt, and around her shirt collar and right breast, exactly where you’d expect to find it.” Ben chewed at the tip of his tongue. At least part of him still knew what he was doing was ethically wrong. “I don’t like the way they got her to admit it. I don’t like the way they do a lot of things.”

Sam said, “Kelly can be talked into anything.”

Ben nodded. “They didn’t Mirandize her. Even if they did, who knows if she understands what a right to remain silent is.”

“I think she’s pregnant.”

Charlie’s head whipped around. “Why do you think that?”

Sam shook her head. She was talking to Ben. “Do you know what happened to the gun?”

“No.” Ben asked, “Do you?”

“I do,” Sam said. “Did Kelly say if she knew the victims?”

Ben provided, “She knew that Lucy Alexander was Frank Alexander’s daughter, but I think that information came after the fact.”

“About the Alexanders,” Charlie jumped in. “Jimmy Jack told me that Frank got caught cheating on his wife a few years ago. He was pulled over for a DUI and the story came out.”

“Ah,” Sam said. “So, he’s done it before. Was it a student?”

“No, a real estate agent. Wealthy, but older, which is apparently the wrong way to do it.” Charlie added, “Dad represented Frank for the DUI. Jimmy Jack said it was routine.”

“It was,” Ben said. “Coin already looked into it. His focus is on the fact that Kelly had Frank for algebra. Frank was going to fail her. You heard the theory yesterday. Coin thinks a girl who has the IQ of a turnip is so worried and ashamed about failing algebra that she took a gun to school and killed two people. The wrong school, by the way.”

“That’s an interesting point,” Sam said. “Why was Kelly at the middle school?”

“Judith Pinkman was tutoring her for some kind of English proficiency test.”

“Ah,” Sam repeated, as if pieces were finally clicking into place.

Ben added, “But Judith said she wasn’t supposed to meet Kelly that week. She had no idea Kelly was even in the hall until she heard the gunshots.”

Sam asked, “What else did Judith tell you?”

“Not much more. She was really upset. I mean, that sounds like an obvious thing because her husband was dead and then there was the stuff that happened with Lucy and probably seeing Charlie—” Ben glanced at Charlie, then back at the road. “Judith was really shaken. They had to sedate her just to get her into the ambulance. I guess that’s when it hit her, like, the second she walked out of the building. She became hysterical, but like in the real sense of the word. Just completely overcome with grief.”

Karin Slaughter's books