“Alas, I’m innocent,” Clay said. “Though, correct me if I’m wrong, but it sounds as if you’re wishing that I had actually killed her.”
Andrea felt her fingers clench around the phone. His parole hearing was in another five months. She was certain that Jasper was scrambling to do the unseemly work to make sure it was denied. For Andrea’s part, she had vowed not to let her world stop on a dime for her psychopathic father. She had failed at doing her part to keep him locked away, but she was not going to let Clayton Morrow make her feel like a failure.
“Nevertheless,” he said. “I’ve got some very interesting stories about dear Jasper’s gluttonous past that might interest you.”
“Like what?” she demanded. “He’s been at every parole hearing you’ve ever had. You didn’t think to use this information to shut him up before?”
“Curious, isn’t it? Why would I hold something back that could destroy him?” Clay chuckled in the silence. “Come see me, daughter. I promise you won’t be disappointed.”
Andrea’s mouth opened to respond, but no words came out. She could feel the cold air inside of her mouth. She thought about the oxygen flowing around her. Circulating through her bloodstream. Bringing life into her body.
Clayton Morrow had not called because he wanted to spill dirt on Jasper. He was calling to pull Andrea back into his orbit. She could not let her world stop for him. He was a psychopath. His oxygen was attention. He needed Andrea to feed his fire.
“An-dree-ah,” he sang. “I think you should—”
She ended the call.
She slipped the phone back into her pocket. She looked out into the street. A bike coasted by. People were rushing to do their shopping. Children were negotiating homework. Millennials drank lattes. A Great Dane on a long leash trotted in front of her like a show pony.
Andrea pushed away from the wall. She walked into the building. On the stairs, she could hear the low rumble of Mike’s voice, the warmth of Laura’s laughter, the constant clearing of Gordon’s throat.
Last month, her mother had accused Andrea of approaching every challenge in life as if it was a cliff that she had to fling herself over. Completely out of control. Letting gravity take over.
Now, her life was more like a diving board.
Andrea had finally learned how to jump.
She’d already known how to fall.
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Enjoyed Girl, Forgotten? Make sure you’ve read Karin Slaughter’s previous books
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About the night that tore them apart.
About what they did.
But someone else is about to.
How far will Leigh go to protect her family?
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She runs
A woman runs alone in the woods. She convinces herself she’s safe.
He watches
But a predator is watching from the shadows. Waiting for the perfect moment to attack.
He waits
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The hunt has only just begun. And the killer is ready to strike again …
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Three …
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Two …
A month later, a second is taken in explosive circumstances.
One …
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The clock is ticking to uncover the truth.
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She’s the person you think you know best …
But what if you don’t actually know her at all?
Andy Oliver thinks she knows everything about her mother Laura.
Until, in a moment of terrible danger, Laura steps forward into the line of fire.
Now, Andy must embark on a desperate race against time to uncover the secrets of her mother’s past.
Before they both run out of time …
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One ran. One stayed. But who is … the good daughter?
Twenty-eight years ago, Charlotte and Samantha Quinn’s childhoods were destroyed by a terrifying attack on their family home. It left their mother dead. It left their father – a notorious defence attorney – devastated. And it left the family consumed by secrets from that shocking night.
Twenty-eight years later, Charlie has followed in her father’s footsteps to become a lawyer. But when violence comes to their home town again, the case triggers memories she’s desperately tried to suppress. Because the shocking truth about the crime which destroyed her family won’t stay buried for ever …
Click here to order a copy of The Good Daughter.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
First thanks always goes to Kate Elton and Victoria Sanders for being there no matter what. And there has been a shit ton of what lately, so apologies and appreciations. Special thanks also to Diane Dickensheid for making sure the sails are correctly directed at all times; to Emily Krump for her amazing calmness; and to Bernadette Baker-Baughman, my confrere, for keeping me sane. Or at least punctual.
At HarperCollins: Liate Stehlik, Jen Hart, Heidi Richter-Ginger, Kaitlin Harri, Miranda Mettes, Kathryn Cheshire, Elizabeth Dawson, Sarah Shea, Izzy Coburn, Chantal Restivo-Alessi, Julianna Wojcik, and all my GPP peeps worldwide. At WME, Hilary Zaitz-Michael and Sylvie Rabineau. At Made Up Stories, the incredible Bruna Papandrea, Steve Hutensky, Janice Williams and Casey Haver. Also thanks to Charlotte Stoudt, Lesli Linka Glatter and Minkie Spiro for being such exceptional professionals and genuinely good people. Eric Rayman and Jeff Frankel were instrumental as usual. And of course I would be remiss not to mention the wonderful folks at Netflix.
At the United States Marshal Service, I owe a great deal of appreciation to Keith Booker, Marc Cameron, Brooke Davis, Van Grady, Chaz Johnson, Kevin R. Kamrowski, David Oney and J.B. Stevens for answering all my tedious questions. Any mistakes are completely and entirely my own—and not for lack of their trying.
Alafair Burke, Patricia Friedman, Charles Hodges and Greg Guthrie helped me with the legal stuff. Sara Blaedel confirmed the sophistication of the average Danish hedgehog. David Harper answered some tiny medical questions and is raring to go for the next Sara and Will, for those of you who are wondering what comes next. Kristian Bush and Melanie Hammet explained time signature changes, among other musical oddities, so I didn’t embarrass myself in print. (I still might have, but what I am saying is that they tried.) Carly Place helped with Delaware facts, though the town of Longbill Beach is entirely fictional.
Last thanks always goes to my dad for hanging in there and D.A. for not hanging me—you are my heart. You are my home.