The Good Daughter (The Good Daughter #1) - Karin Slaughter Page 0,196

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.

All she had to do was keep Judith talking.

“Please,” Charlie begged. “Please don’t do this. I have questions to ask you about that day, about what—”

“You need to forget about it, Charlotte. You need to do what your daddy told you and put it in a box and leave it there, because I am telling you right now that you don’t ever want to remember what that horrible man did to you.” Judith jammed the magazine into the gun. “Now, I really need for you to go.”

“Oh, Judith, please don’t do this.” Charlie felt her voice shake. This couldn’t happen. Not in this kitchen. Not to this woman. “Please.”

Judith pulled back the slide, loading a bullet into the chamber. “Leave, Charlotte.”

“I can’t—” Charlie held out her hands, reaching toward Judith, toward the gun. “Please don’t do this. This can’t happen. I can’t let you—”

Bright white bone. Pieces of heart and lung. Cords of tendon and arteries and veins and life spilling out of her gaping wounds.

“Judith,” Charlie cried. “Please.”

“Charlotte.” Her voice was firm, like a teacher in front of the classroom. “You are to go outside immediately. I want you to get in your truck, and drive to your father’s house and call the police.”

“Judith, no.”

“They’re used to handling these sorts of things, Charlotte. I know that you think you are, but I can’t take that on my conscience. I just can’t.”

“Judith, please. I am begging you.” Charlie was so close to the gun. She could lunge for it. She was younger, faster. She could stop this.

“Don’t.” Judith placed the gun behind her on the counter. “I told you that I’m not going to hurt you. Don’t make me go back on my word.”

“I can’t!” Charlie was sobbing. She felt like razors were pumping through her heart. “I can’t leave you here to kill yourself.”

Judith opened the kitchen door. “You can and