The Good Daughter (The Good Daughter #1) - Karin Slaughter Page 0,131

forth as she tried to soothe both of them.

Sam had seen Charlie rock this way only once before.

“That’s Mason,” Lenore said. She blew her nose loudly.

Mason Huckabee had his back to the camera. He was clearly talking to Kelly, trying to coax away the gun. The girl was still seated, but she had slid farther down the hallway. Sam could no longer see her face. The only visible parts of Kelly’s body were her right leg and the hand that held the revolver.

The butt of the weapon rested on the floor.

Mason went down to his knees. He leaned forward. His arm went out, palm open. He inched toward Kelly. Slowly, slowly. Sam could only imagine what he was saying. Give me the gun. Just hand it to me. You don’t have to do this.

Mason knew Kelly Wilson, had been her teacher, her tutor. He would know that she could be talked down.

On screen, he kept moving closer, and closer until, without warning, Kelly raised the gun out of the frame.

Sam’s stomach lurched.

Mason backed up quickly, putting distance between himself and Kelly.

“She turned the gun on herself,” Lenore said. “That’s why his hands are down instead of up.”

Sam’s gaze found Charlie again. She was beside Lucy, opposite Mrs. Pinkman. The older woman was looking up at the ceiling, eyes closed, clearly praying. Charlie sat cross-legged on the floor. Her hands were in her lap. She was rubbing together her fingers, staring at the blood as if she had never seen anything like it before.

Or perhaps she was thinking that she had seen something exactly like it before.

Charlie’s head slowly turned. She looked off camera. A shotgun slid across the floor, stopping a few feet away. Charlie did not move. Another second passed. The shotgun was scooped up by a policeman. He ran down the hall. His bulletproof vest flapped at his waist. He dropped to one knee and jammed the butt of the shotgun into his shoulder.

The weapon was pointed at Mason Huckabee, not Kelly Wilson.

Mason was on his knees, his back to Kelly, blocking the man’s shot.

All of this seemed lost on Charlie. She was looking back down at her hands, seemingly mesmerized by the blood. Her rocking had become less pronounced, more of a vibration moving through the body.

Lenore whispered, “My poor baby.”

Sam had to look away from Charlie. She found Mason still on his knees. Now, his back was to Kelly Wilson. The shotgun was pointed at his chest.

The shotgun was pointed at his chest.

Sam’s eyes skipped back to Charlie. She had not moved. She was still rocking. She looked to be in some type of fugue state. She did not seem to notice when a second police officer ran past her.

Sam followed the cop’s quick progress down the hall. As with the other officer, his back was to the camera, but Sam could see the gun in his hand. He came to a stop a few feet away from the other cop with a shotgun.

Shotgun and revolver.

Revolver and shotgun.

Mason Huckabee had extended his hand toward Kelly, reaching over his left shoulder, offering his palm. He was talking to her, most likely still trying to coax the gun away.

The cops shook their weapons. Their stances were aggressive. Sam did not need to see their faces to know that they were shouting orders.

In contrast, Mason was calm, collected. His mouth moved slowly. His movements were almost cat-like.

Sam’s gaze returned to Charlie just as she looked up. The expression on her face was heartbreaking. Sam wanted to climb into the film and hold her.

“She moved back,” Lenore said.

She meant Kelly. The girl was almost out of frame now. Only a patch of black from her jeans indicated Kelly was still there. Mason had moved back with her. His head, his left shoulder and left hand were completely gone. The angle of the camera had cut a diagonal line across his torso.

The cops did not move.

Mason did not move.

There was a puff of smoke from the cop’s gun.

Mason’s right arm recoiled.

The cop had shot him.

“Oh my God,” Sam said. She could not see Mason’s face, but his torso had only slightly twisted.

The cops appeared to be as surprised as Sam. They did not move, not for several more seconds, before slowly, they both lowered their weapons. They spoke to one another. The man with the shotgun unclipped the radio mic from his shoulder. The other turned around in the hall, looked at Charlie, then turned back.

He extended his hand to Mason.

Mason