The Good Daughter: The gripping new bestselling thriller from a No. 1 author. Karin Slaughter

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      “This is your house?”

      “We rent it, yes, ma’am. Sir.”

      “Mrs. Wilson.” The cop didn’t seem concerned with pronouns. “I’m Captain Isaac with the state police. I have a warrant to search your house.”

      Charlie pointed out, “You’re already searching it.”

      “We had reason to believe evidence might be tampered with.” Isaac studied Charlie’s bruised eye. “Were you accidentally injured during the breach, ma’am?”

      “No. A different police officer hit me today.”

      Isaac glanced at Lenore, who was still apparently livid, then looked back at Charlie. “Are you two ladies together?”

      “Yes,” Charlie said. “Mrs. Wilson would like to see a copy of the warrant.”

      Isaac made a point of noticing the yellow glove on Charlie’s hand.

      “Dish-washing glove,” Charlie said, which was technically true. “Mrs. Wilson would like to see a copy of the warrant.”

      “Are you Mrs. Wilson’s lawyer?”

      “I’m a lawyer,” Charlie clarified. “I’m only here as a friend of the family.”

      Isaac told Ava, “Mrs. Wilson, per your friend’s request, I am giving you a copy of the warrant.”

      Charlie had to lift Ava’s arm so that the warrant could be placed in the woman’s hand.

      Isaac asked, “Mrs. Wilson, are there any weapons in the house?”

      Ava shook her head. “No, sir.”

      “Any needles we should be worried about? Anything that’s going to cut us?”

      Again, Ava shook her head, though she seemed troubled by the question.

      “Explosives?”

      Ava’s hand flew to her mouth. “Is there a gas leak?”

      Isaac looked to Charlie for an explanation. Charlie shrugged. The mother’s life was upside down. Logic was the last thing they should expect from her.

      Isaac asked Ava, “Ma’am, do I have your consent to search your person?”

      “Ye—”

      “No,” Charlie interrupted. “You don’t have consent to search anything or anyone beyond the scope of the warrant.”

      Isaac glanced down at Charlie’s purse, which had conformed roughly to the shape of a rectangular yearbook. “Do I need to search your bag?”

      Charlie felt her heart flip. “Do you have cause?”

      “If you’ve concealed evidence, or removed something from the house with the purposes of concealment, then—”

      “That would be illegal,” Charlie said. “Like searching a school bus when it’s not specifically listed in your warrant and it’s not part of the curtilage.”

      Isaac nodded once. “You would be correct, unless there was cause.”

      Charlie snapped off the yellow glove. “I did remove this from the house, but not intentionally.”

      “Thank you for being forthcoming.” Isaac turned to Ava. She had a script to follow. “Ma’am, you can stay outside, or you can leave, but you cannot go back into the house until we’ve released it. Do you understand?”

      Ava shook her head.

      Charlie said, “She understands.”

      Isaac walked across the yard and joined the men inside the house. Plastic containers were stacked by the door. Evidence logs. Zip ties. Plastic bags. Ava stared through the bay window. The television was still on. The screen was so large that Charlie could read the scroll along the bottom: PIKEVILLE PD SOURCE: SCHOOL SECURITY FOOTAGE WILL NOT BE RELEASED.

      Security cameras. Charlie had not noticed them this morning, but now she recalled a camera at the end of every hallway.

      The murder spree had been captured on video.

      Ava asked, “What are we going to do?”

      Charlie suppressed her first answer: Watch your daughter get strapped to a gurney and executed.

      She told Ava, “My father will explain everything back at his office.” She took the rolled-up warrant from the woman’s sweaty hand. “There has to be an arraignment within forty-eight hours. Kelly will likely be held at the county jail, but then they’ll transfer her somewhere else. There will be a lot of court appearances and plenty of opportunities to see her. None of this will happen quickly. Everything takes a long time.” Charlie scanned the search warrant, which was basically a love letter from the judge allowing the cops to do whatever the hell they wanted. She asked Ava, “Is this your address?”

      Ava looked at the warrant. “Yes, ma’am, that’s the street number.”

      Through the open front door, Charlie saw Isaac start yanking out drawers in the kitchen. Silverware clattered. Carpet was being stripped from the floor. None of them were being gentle. They lifted their feet high as they stomped around, checking for hollow sounds under the floorboards, poking at the stained tile in the ceiling.

      Ava grabbed Charlie’s arm. “When will Kelly come home?”

      “You’ll need to talk about that with my father.”

      “I don’t see how we can afford any of this,” Ava said. “We ain’t got no money, if that’s why you’re here.”

      Rusty had never been interested in money. “The state will pay for her defense. It won’t be much, but I can promise you, my father will work his heart out for your daughter.”

      Ava blinked. She didn’t seem to follow. “She’s got chores to do.”

      Charlie looked into the woman’s eyes. Her pupils were small, but that could be explained by the intense sunlight. “Are you on something?”

      She looked down at her feet. “No, ma’am. There was a pebble but I kicked it away.”

      Charlie waited for an inappropriate smile, but the woman was being serious. “Did you take some medication? Or maybe you smoked a joint to take the edge off?”

      “Oh, no, ma’am. I’m a bus driver. I can’t take drugs. Children depend on me.”

      Charlie looked into her eyes again, this time for any sign of reason. “Did my father explain what’s happening to Kelly?”

      “He said he was working for her, but I don’t know.” She whispered, “My cousin says Rusty Quinn is a bad man, that he represents low-lifes and rapists and killers.”

      Charlie’s mouth went dry. The woman did not seem to understand that Rusty Quinn was exactly СКАЧАТЬ