Gordon didn’t seem to care. “The kid’s father was Bobby Helsinger. Did you know that?”
Laura’s lips pursed. Andy could tell she knew.
Gordon said, “He was the sheriff of Bibb County before a bank robber blew off his head with a shotgun. This was six months ago, around the same time the detective says Jonah Helsinger started weaponizing.”
The vest and gunbelt.
Palazzolo had told them that Jonah bought it off Amazon six months ago.
Gordon said, “I looked up the obituary on my phone. Jonah’s got three uncles who are cops, two cousins who are in the military. His mother used to work at the district attorney’s office in Beaufort before she went private. The family’s practically law enforcement royalty.” He waited for Laura to say something. “Did you hear me? Do you understand what I’m saying to you?”
Laura took a sharp breath before speaking. “His family royalty does not negate the fact that he murdered two people.”
“He didn’t just murder them. He planned it. He knew exactly what he was doing. He had maps and—” Gordon shook his head, like he could not believe how stupid she was. “Do you think the family’s going to believe their little boy is a sadistic murderer, or do you think they’re going to say he had some kind of mental problem because his hero daddy was murdered by a bank robber and all of this was a cry for help?”
“They can say what they want.”
“That’s the first thing you’ve said that makes any fucking sense,” Gordon snapped. “The Helsingers are going to say exactly what they want—that yeah, this poor, heart-broken, dead cop’s son deserved to go to prison for what he did, but he didn’t deserve to be viciously murdered.”
“That’s not—”
“They’re going to take you down harder than him, Laura. You did that kid a favor. This is all going to be about what you did, not what he did.”
Laura kept silent.
Andy stopped breathing.
Gordon asked, “Do you know there’s a video?”
Laura did not answer, though she must have seen the TV when the orderly wheeled her through the waiting room.
“That detective showed—” Gordon had to stop to swallow. “The look on your face when you killed him, Laura. The serenity. The everyday-ness. How do you think that’s going to stack up against a mentally troubled, fatherless teenage boy?”
Laura turned her head and looked out the window.
“Do you know what that detective kept asking? Over and over again?”
“The pigs always ask a lot of questions.”
“Stop fucking around, Laura. What did you say before you killed him?” Gordon waited, but she did not respond. “What did you say to Helsinger?”
Laura continued to stare out the window.
“Whatever you said—that’s motivation. That’s the difference between maybe—just maybe—being able to argue justifiable homicide and the death penalty.”
Andy felt her heart stop.
“Laura?” He banged his hand on the steering wheel. “God dammit! Answer me. Answer me or—”
“I am not a fool, Gordon.” Laura’s tone was cold enough to burn. “Why do you think I refused to be interviewed? Why do you think I told Andrea to keep her mouth shut?”
“You want our daughter to lie to a police detective? To perjure herself in court?”
“I want her to do what she always does and keep her mouth shut.” Her tone was quiet but her anger was so palpable that Andy felt like the air was vibrating with rage.
Why wasn’t her mother arguing that Gordon was wrong? Why wasn’t she saying that she didn’t have a choice? That she was saving Andy? That it was self-defense? That she was horrified by what she had done? That she had panicked or just reacted or was terrified and she was sorry—so sorry—that she had killed that troubled kid?
Andy slid her hand into her pocket. The detective’s card was still wet from the bathroom counter.