The Good Daughter (The Good Daughter #1) - Karin Slaughter Page 0,42

start in Kelly’s room, then—”

“Will they take her some clean clothes?”

Again, Charlie was thrown. “No, they’re going to search the house for weapons, any notes, computers—”

“We don’t got a computer.”

“Okay, that’s good. Did Kelly do her schoolwork at the library?”

“She didn’t do anything,” Ava said. “She didn’t kill …” Her voice trailed off. Her eyes glistened. “Ma’am, you gotta hear me. My baby didn’t do what they’re saying.”

Charlie had dealt with her share of mothers who were convinced that their children were being framed, but there was no time to give Ava Wilson the speech about how sometimes good people did bad things. “Listen to me, Ava. The police are going to come in whether you let them or not. They’ll remove you from the house. They’ll do a thorough search. They might break things or find things you don’t want them to find. I doubt they’ll hold you in custody, but they might if they think you’re going to alter evidence, so please don’t do that. You cannot, please, hear me on this: you cannot say anything to them about Kelly or why she might have done this or what might have happened. They are not trying to help her and they are not her friends. Understand?”

Ava did not acknowledge the information. She just stood there.

The helicopter swooped lower. Charlie could see the pilot’s face behind the bubbled glass. He was talking into the mic, probably giving the coordinates for the search warrant.

She asked Ava, “Can we go inside?”

The woman didn’t move, so Charlie took her by the arm and led her into the house. “Have you heard from your husband?”

“Ely don’t call until he’s done working, from the payphone outside the lumber yard.”

Which meant that Kelly’s father would probably learn about his daughter’s crimes from his car radio. “Do you have a suitcase or a small bag you can put some clothes in?”

Ava did not answer. Her eyes were fixed on the muted television.

The middle school was on the news. An aerial shot showed the top of the gymnasium, which was likely being used as a staging ground. The scroll at the bottom of the screen read: BOMB SQUAD SWEPT BUILDING FOR SUSPICIOUS DEVICES. TWO DEAD—8-YEAR-OLD STUDENT, HERO PRINCIPAL WHO TRIED TO SAVE HER.

Lucy Alexander was only eight years old.

“She didn’t do this,” Ava said. “She wouldn’t.”

Lucy’s cold hand.

Sam’s trembling fingers.

The sudden white waxiness of Gamma’s skin.

Charlie wiped her eyes. She glanced around the room, fighting against the slideshow of horror that had returned to her head. The Wilson house was shabby, but tidy. A Jesus hung on a cross by the front door. The galley kitchen was right off the cramped living room. Dishes were drying in the rack. Yellow gloves were folded limply over the edge of the sink. The counter was cluttered, but there was order to it.

Charlie told Ava, “You’re not going to be allowed back in the house for a while. You’ll need a change of clothes, some toiletries.”

“The toilet’s right behind you.”

Charlie tried again. “You need to pack some things.” She waited to see if Ava understood. “Clothes, toothbrushes. Nothing else.”

Ava nodded, but she either could not or would not look away from the television.

Outside, the helicopter lifted away. Charlie was burning through time. Coin had probably gotten his warrant signed by now. The search team would be en route from town, full lights and sirens.

She asked Ava, “Do you want me to pack some things for you?” Charlie waited for another nod. And waited. “Ava, I’m going to get some clothes for you, then we’re going to wait outside for the police.”

Ava clutched the remote in her hand as she sat on the edge of the couch.

Charlie opened kitchen cabinets until she found a plastic grocery bag. She slipped on one of the yellow dishwashing gloves from the sink, then walked past the bathroom down the short, paneled hallway. There were two bedrooms, both of them taking up one end of the house. Instead of a door, Kelly had a purple curtain for privacy. The sheet of notebook paper pinned to the material said NO ADULTS ALOWT.

Charlie knew better than to go into a murder suspect’s room, but she used Lenore’s phone to take a picture of the sign.

The Wilsons’ bedroom was on the right, facing a steep hill behind the house. They slept in a large waterbed that took up most of the space. A tall chest of drawers kept the door from opening all the way. Charlie was glad