The Good Daughter (The Good Daughter #1) - Karin Slaughter Page 0,143

she’s innocent? What else have you learned?”

“I have learned nothing, in general or in specific. It’s this—” he pointed to his gut. “The knife just missed my intuition. It is still intact. It still tells me that there is more to this than meets the eye.”

“My eyes have seen quite a lot,” Sam said. “Did Lenore tell you that she managed to get her hands on the security footage?”

“I also heard that you and your sister almost resorted to fisticuffs in my office.” Rusty covered his heart with his hands. “May the circle be unbroken.”

Sam didn’t want to make light of this. “Dad, what’s wrong with her?”

Rusty stared out at the parking lot. Bright lights glared against the parked cars. “‘There ain’t no sin and there ain’t no virtue. There’s just stuff people do.’”

Sam was certain Charlie would recognize the quote. “I’ve never understood your relationship with her. You two talk all the time, but you never say anything of substance.” Sam imagined two roosters circling each other in the barnyard. “I guess that’s why she was always your favorite.”

“You were both my favorite.”

Sam didn’t buy it. Charlie had always been the good daughter, the one who laughed at his jokes, the one who challenged his opinions, the one who had stayed.

Rusty said, “A father’s job is to love each of his daughters in the way they need to be loved.”

Sam laughed out loud at the silly platitude. “How did you never win father of the year?”

Rusty chuckled along with her. “The one disappointment in my life is that I have never received one of those father of the year coffee mugs.” He reached into the pocket of his robe. He found his pack of cigarettes. “Did Charlotte tell you about her personal involvement with Mason?”

“Are we finally going to talk about that?”

“In our own roundabout way.”

Sam said, “I told her about Mason. She had no idea who he was.”

Rusty took his time lighting the cigarette. He coughed out a few puffs of smoke. He picked a piece of tobacco off his tongue. “I could never again represent a rapist after that day.”

Sam was surprised by the revelation. “You’ve always said that everyone deserves a chance.”

“They do, but I don’t have to be the one who gives it to them.” Rusty coughed out more smoke. “When I looked at the photos of that girl, Mary-Lynne was her name, I realized something about rape that I had never understood before.” He rolled his cigarette between his fingers. He looked at the parking lot, not Sam.

He said, “What a rapist takes from a woman is her future. The person she is going to become, who she is supposed to be, is gone. In many ways, it’s worse than murder, because he has killed that potential person, eradicated that potential life, yet she still lives and breathes, and has to figure out another way to thrive.” He waved his hand in the air. “Or not, in some cases.”

“Sounds a lot like being shot in the head.”

Rusty coughed as smoke caught in his throat.

He said, “Charlotte has always been a pack animal. She doesn’t need to be the leader, but she needs to be in a group. Ben was her group.”

“Why did she cheat on him?”

“It’s not my place to tell you about your sister.”

Sam could not keep talking in circles, though she knew that Rusty could gladly spin around all night. She pulled her notes from her purse. “I’ve got some other things you should follow up on. Kelly doesn’t seem to know the victims. I’m not sure if that makes it better or worse.” Sam knew it made things worse from her perspective. She had never become indifferent to the randomness of violence. “You’re going to want to nail down the sequence and number of bullets fired. There seems to be some confusion.”

Rusty talked through the list. “Pregnancy: question mark. Paternity: big question mark. Video: we got one, thanks to you-know-who, but we’ll see if that ol’ snake Mr. Coin follows the judge’s order.” He thumped the paper with his finger. “Yes, why indeed was Kelly at the middle school? Victims random.” He looked at Sam. “You’re sure she didn’t know them?”

Sam shook her head. “I asked and she said no, but it’s worth a follow-up.”

“Follow-ups are my favorite things.” He looked at the last line on the list. “Judith Pinkman. I saw her on the news earlier. Quite the conversion with this ‘turn the other cheek’ line.” He folded the list