Page 174 of This is Why We Lied

She had to suck in a breath before she could push out the words, telling Will, “F-forgive him.”

He nodded his head. “Okay—”

That was all that Mercy needed to hear. She let go of his shirt. Her head cradled back in the water. She looked at the beautiful, perfect moon. She felt the waves pulling at her body. Washing away her sins. Washing away her life. The calmness finally came, and with it, a powerful sense of peace.

For the first time in her life, Mercy felt safe.

ONE MONTH AFTER THE MURDER

Will sat beside Amanda on the couch inside her office. Her laptop was open on the coffee table. They were watching the taped interview of Jon’s confession. He was wearing a tan jumpsuit. His wrists were not handcuffed because he’d been committed to a juvenile psychiatric facility, not an adult prison. Delilah had hired a top criminal defense attorney out of Atlanta. Jon was going to remain institutionalized, but maybe not for the rest of his life.

On the video, Jon said, “I blacked out. I don’t remember what happened next. I just knew she would go back to him. She always went back to him. She always left me.”

“Left you with who?” Faith’s voice was faint. She was off-screen. “Who did she leave you with?”

Jon shook his head. He still would not implicate his grandmother, even though she was dead. Bitty had swallowed a bottle of morphine before they could arrest her. The autopsy had revealed that she had terminal cancer. The woman hadn’t just cheated justice. She had cheated a prolonged and painful death.

Faith said, “Let’s go back to that night. After you left the note that you were running away, where did you go?”

“I stayed at the horse paddock, then the next morning, I went to cottage nine cause I knew nobody was staying there.”

“What about the knife handle?”

“I knew Dave …” Jon let his voice trail off. “I knew Dave fixed the toilet, so I thought that would be evidence against him. Cause you’d already arrested him for killing her. He should go to prison no matter what. I know Mercy said it wasn’t true, but he broke my arm. That’s child abuse.”

“Okay.” Faith didn’t get sidetracked, though they’d both seen the hospital report on the broken arm. Jon had fallen from a tree. “When Dave was arrested, you’d already run away from home. Who told you what happened?”

Jon started shaking his head. “I had to make a choice.”

“Jon—”

“I had to protect myself,” he said. “Nobody else looked out for me. Nobody else cared.”

“Let’s go back to—”

“Who’s gonna protect me now?” he asked. “I’ve got nobody. Nobody.”

Will looked away from the screen as Jon started to cry. He thought about the last conversation he’d had with the kid. They were sitting in the bedroom in cottage ten. Will had told Jon that abuse was complicated, but it seemed really fucking straightforward right now.

Don’t hurt children.

Amanda said, “All right, you get the gist.”

She closed the laptop. She held on to Will’s hand for a few seconds. Then she got up from the couch and walked toward her desk.

She said, “Catch me up on the bootleg case.”

Will stood up, glad emotion-time was over. “We’ve got Mercy’s ledger that details the pay-outs. The spreadsheets on Chuck’s computer list all the clubs he was selling to. We’re coordinating with ATF and IRS-CI.”

“Good.” Amanda sat down behind her desk. She picked up her phone. “And?”

“Christopher’s set to plea negligent homicide on poisoning Chuck. He’ll get fifteen years as long as he testifies against his father on the murder of Gabriella Ponticello. Plus we’ve got the second set of books on the lodge to hit Cecil with tax evasion. He says he didn’t know anything about it, but the money’s sitting in his accounts.”

She typed on her phone. “And?”

“Both Paul Ponticello and his private detective provided sworn statements about what Dave told them. It’s hearsay, though. We need to find Dave to make it a slam dunk.”

“We?” Amanda looked up. “You’re not working that part of the case.”