The Good Daughter (The Good Daughter #1) - Karin Slaughter Page 0,58

things were a hell of a lot easier to digest when you took away the emotion.

The school part of the story did not deviate from what she’d told Delia Wofford. The Word document could be subpoenaed, and there was nothing to Charlie’s recollection that was much different than what she had told the agent. What had changed was her certainty. Four shots before Mrs. Pinkman screamed. Two shots after.

Charlie stopped typing. She stared at the screen until the words blurred. Had Mrs. Pinkman opened the door when she heard the four initial gunshots? Had she screamed when she saw her husband and a child on the ground? Had Kelly Wilson emptied the remaining bullets in the revolver in an attempt to shut her up?

Unless Kelly opened up to Rusty, they might not know the truth about the sequence for weeks, possibly months, until Rusty held the forensic reports and witness statements in his hands.

Charlie blinked her eyes to clear them. She hit the return key for a new paragraph, skipping over her conversation with Ben at the police station and jumping right into the interview she had granted Delia Wofford. For all of Charlie’s sphere bullshit, she was right about the passage of time sharpening perspective. Again, it was the certainty that had changed. She would have to amend parts of the statement she had made to the GBI before signing off on it.

An alert chirped on her computer.

[email protected]: Mindy Zowada has accepted your friend request!

Charlie expanded the girl’s Facebook page. Mindy’s banner had been changed to a single burning candle fluttering in the wind.

“Oh for fucksakes,” Charlie mumbled, scrolling down to the posts.

Six minutes ago, Mindy Zowada had written:

idk what to do i am so sad about this thot kelly was a good person i guess all we can do is pray?

Funny, considering what the girl thought about Kelly Wilson five years ago.

Charlie scrolled through the replies. The first three concurred with Mindy’s assessment that they were all shocked—shocked!—that the girl they bullied on a school-wide scale had snapped. The fourth reply was the asshole in the bunch, because the point of Facebook was that there was always an asshole who would shit on everything, from an innocent photo of a cat to a video of your kid’s birthday party.

Nate Marcus wrote:

i know what was wrong with her she was a fucking slut that fucked the whole football team so maybe thats why she did it because she has aids

Chase Lovette responded:

aw man they gone hang that bitch she sucked my cock clean off maybe my wikked cum made her do it

Then Alicia Todd supplied:

bitch gonna burn in hell kelly wilson so sorry uuuu!

Charlie had to read the sentence aloud before she guessed that the four “u”s meant “for you.”

She wrote down all the names, thinking Rusty would want to have a word with them. If they had been in Kelly’s class in middle school, at least some of the posters would now be over the age of eighteen, which meant that Rusty would not need their parents’ permission to speak with them.

“Lenore took Ava Wilson to meet her husband.”

The sound of Rusty’s voice made her jump. The noisiest man alive had managed to sneak up on her.

“They wanna be alone for a while, talk this through.” Rusty plopped down on the couch across from her desk. He tapped his hands against his legs. “Don’t know that they can afford a hotel. Guess they’ll sleep in their car. Revolver’s not in the glove box, by the by.”

Charlie looked at the time: 6:38 PM. Time had crawled and then it had sprinted.

She asked, “You didn’t talk to her about innocence?”

“Nope.” He leaned back on the couch, one hand on the cushions, the other still tapping his leg. “Didn’t talk to her about much, to be honest. I wrote down some things for her to show her husband—what to expect in the coming weeks. She thinks the girl’s gonna come home.”

“Like a good little unicorn?”

“Well, Charlie Bear, there’s innocent and there’s not guilty, and there’s not a lot of rhyme or reason in between.” He gave her a wink. “Why don’t you drive your old daddy home?”

Charlotte hated going to the farmhouse, even to drop him off. She hadn’t been inside the HP in years. “Where’s your car?”

“Had to drop it off for service.” He tapped his knee harder. There was a rhythm to the beats now. “Did you figure out why Ben called you this morning?”

Charlie shook her head. “Do