Ben had said that Judith Pinkman had been hysterical when the paramedics had taken her out the middle-school doors. They’d had to sedate her to get her into the ambulance. She had stayed at the hospital all night. She had gone on camera to plead for Kelly’s life. Even now, her eyes were swollen from crying. Her face was haggard with grief. She was telling Charlie the truth, the brutal, unvarnished truth, though she knew that she was being recorded.
She wasn’t bargaining, she wasn’t pleading, she wasn’t trying to make some kind of trade. This was how a person behaved when they felt true remorse for their actions.
Judith said, “Kelly wouldn’t pull the trigger on her own. She promised me that she would, but I knew that she wasn’t like that. She was too kind, and she was too trusting, and she would’ve been a horrible shot, so I stood behind her in the hall, and I wrapped my hand around hers, and I fired a shot into the wall to get Doug’s attention.” She tapped her fingers to her mouth as if to remind her voice to stay calm. “He came running out, and I shot him three times. And then—”
Charlie waited.
Judith pressed her hand to her chest. Her anger had gone completely cold.
She admitted, “I was going to kill Kelly. That was the plan: shoot Doug, then murder Kelly and say that I stopped her from slaughtering more children. Town hero. I’d get Doug’s pension, his social security. No messy divorce. More time to read my books, right?”
Charlie wondered if she had planned on shooting Kelly in the stomach to make sure her baby was dead, too.
Judith said, “I managed to hit Doug in all the right places. The coroner told me that any one of the three shots was fatal. I guess he thought that would be a comfort.” Her eyes glistened again. She swallowed, her throat making an audible sound. “But Kelly wouldn’t let go of the gun. I don’t think she knew the rest of the plan, that I was going to kill her. I think she panicked when she saw that Doug was dead. We struggled. The trigger was pulled. I don’t know if it was me or her, but the bullet ricocheted into the floor.”
Judith breathed through her mouth. Her voice was raspy.
She continued, “We were both shocked that the gun had gone off, and Kelly turned, and I—I don’t know. I don’t know what happened. I panicked. I saw movement out of the corner of my eye, and I pulled the trigger again and—” She was cut off by a whimper. Her lips had turned white. She was trembling. “I saw her. I saw her when—while—my finger pulled the trigger. It happened so slowly, and my brain recognized it, I remember thinking, ‘Judith, you’re shooting a child,’ but I couldn’t stop it. My finger kept pulling back, and—”
She could not say the words, so Charlie did.
“Lucy Alexander was shot.”
Judith’s tears flowed like water. “I team-teach with her mother. I used to see Lucy at meetings, dancing around in the back of the room. She would sing to herself. She had such a sweet voice. I don’t know, maybe it would’ve been different if I hadn’t known her, but I knew her.”
Charlie could not help but think that the woman had known Kelly Wilson, too.
Judith said, “Charlotte, I’m so sorry that I made you a part of this. I had no idea you were in the building. I would’ve done it the next day, or next week. I never would have knowingly put you in that situation.”
Charlie was not going to thank her.
“I wish I could explain what came over me. I thought that Doug and I were—I don’t know. He wasn’t the great love of my life, but I thought that we cared for each other. Respected each other. But after that many years, everything is entangled. You’ll see when you get there. Finances, retirement, benefits, cars, this house, savings accounts, tickets we bought for a cruise this summer.”
“Money,” Charlie said. Rusty had thousands of quotes about man’s destructive desires for sex and money.
“It wasn’t just the money,” Judith said. “When I confronted Doug about the pregnancy, and he presented his brilliant plan for us to become geriatric parents, like it was nothing to take on that kind of commitment—and it wasn’t, not for him. He wasn’t going to be the one getting up at three in the morning to change diapers. I know it seems incredible that that was what finally did it, but it was the last straw.”
She searched Charlie’s eyes as if she expected agreement.
Judith said, “I let myself hate Kelly because that was the only way I could talk myself into doing it. I knew that she was pliable. All I had to do was whisper in her ear—wasn’t she a bad girl for what she let Doug do to her? Wasn’t she going to hell for what happened in middle school? Couldn’t she punish Doug for his transgressions? Couldn’t she stop him from hurting other girls? I was amazed by how little time it took to convince another human being that she was nothing.” Judith repeated, “Nothing. Just like me.”
Charlie’s hands were sweating. She wiped them on her dress.
“There’s another verse you probably know, Charlotte. I’m sure you heard it in a movie or read it in a book. ‘Therefore all things whatsoever ye would that men should do to you, do ye even so to them: for this is the law and the prophets.’”
“The Golden Rule,” Charlie said. “Do unto others as they do unto you.”
“I did to Kelly what Doug did to me. That’s what I told myself. That’s how I justified my actions, and then I saw Lucy and I realized …” Judith held up her index finger, as if to start counting. “A proud look through the window of my room.” She held up another finger, listing her sins. “A lying tongue to my husband, to Kelly.” Another finger went up. “Wicked imaginations about murdering both of them. Running toward evil when I put that gun in her hand. False witness to the police about what happened. Sowing discord to you, to Mason Huckabee, to the entire town.” She gave up counting and held up all of her fingers. “‘Hands that shed innocent blood.’”
Judith stood there, her hands in the air, palms out, fingers spread.
Charlie did not know what to say.
“What will happen to her?” Judith asked. “To Kelly?”
Charlie shook her head, though she knew that Kelly Wilson would go to prison. Not to death row, probably not for the rest of her life, but low IQ or not, the girl was right: the gun was in her hand.
Judith said, “I need you to leave, Charlotte.”
“I—”
“Take your phone.” She tossed the phone to Charlie. “Send the recording to that woman at the GBI. Tell her she can find me here.”
Charlie fumbled to catch the phone. “What are you—”
“Leave.” Judith reached her hand up to the top of the cabinet. She didn’t have her father’s rifle. She had a Glock.
“Jesus.” Charlie stumbled back.
“Please leave.” Judith dropped the empty magazine from the gun. “I told you, I’m not going to hurt you.”
“What are you going to do?” Charlie’s heart quivered as she asked the question.
She knew what the woman was planning to do.
“Charlotte, go.” Judith found a box of bullets and scattered them onto the table. She started to load the magazine.
“Jesus,” Charlie repeated.
Judith paused her work. “I know how ridiculous this is going to sound, but please stop taking the Lord’s name in vain.”
“Okay,” Charlie said. Ben was listening. He was probably on his way, running through the woods, jumping over trees, pushing limbs aside, trying to find Charlie.