Page 83 of The Intruder

“We’re going to play a little game, Jolene,” I tell her. “I’m going to ask you some questions, and every time you lie to me, I’m going to light another cigarette.” I pause. “But before I light a new one, I’m going to have to put out the last one.”

Jolene’s eyes widen, her legs kick in vain. “You’re a psychopath! What the hell is wrong with you?”

“You know,” I say, “when a child is found to have cigarette burns like Nell does, the culprit is almost always an adult family member.”

Beads of sweat form on her clammy forehead. “Why are you asking me all these questions about Nell? What are you blaming me for? I’m the one who got stabbed!”

“Last chance, Jolene.” I hold the cigarette between my thumb and forefinger. “How did Nell get those cigarette burns?”

“I don’t know!” she growls at me. “She’s a stupid kid. She probably did it to herself.”

I smile. “Wrong answer, Jolene.”

I press this next cigarette into the delicate skin on the back of her hand. Jolene howls like…well, like she’s being scalded. I hold it there for as long as I can, and when I pull the cigarette away, the skin underneath is red and raw.

“You’re crazy,” she gasps.

“Oh yes,” I say. “But at least I don’t hurt defenseless children.”

A tear falls from Jolene’s left eye. I know exactly what she’s feeling right now—how bad she’s hurting. I have burned both her arms, and she’s not sure which one to devote her attention to. And that on top of the stab wound in her belly.

I reach into the pack of cigarettes and pull another one out. Then I light it.

“No,” she manages. “Please, no.”

She tries to bat at me, but she’s as weak as a newborn kitten. At least she’s not blind like a kitten. Although I’ve got plenty of cigarettes left so that may very well change.

“Jolene,” I say quietly. “Did you burn Nell with a cigarette?” She opens her mouth, but before she can get any words out, I say, “Keep in mind, this next one is going out on your face. So you better not lie to me.”

I can actually hear the woman swallow.

“Fine.” Her voice is trembling as she whispers her answer. “I burned Nell a couple of times. But believe me, she deserved it. You don’t know what that little brat is like. She never ever listens. These rotten kids—you have to teach them a lesson.”

I stare at her, the smoldering cigarette still between my fingers. It’s what I knew I’d hear from her, but I wish she had said anything else. I wish she’d told me she loved her daughter instead of telling me she was a brat.

Maybe if she had, I could have put the cigarette down.

“Why are you still holding that?” she gasps. “I told you the truth! You promised me if I told you the truth, you’d stop!”

I stare down at Jolene, cowering on the kitchen floor. I never thought I could hate someone as much as I hated my mother, but here we are.

“No,” I say, “I definitely never promised.”

58

I drive straight back to Lee’s house.

Jolene will not be sharing our little adventure today with anybody else. Or sharing anything with anybody else, especially the lit ends of her cigarettes. All those cigarettes are gone now anyway. And it turns out those knives on the kitchen counter were useful after all.

What can I say? I am a sucker for child abusers getting what they deserve.

I spent the first half of my journey home checking my rearview mirror for the flashing lights of police cars. After I crossed back into New Hampshire, I relaxed a little. Nobody was following me. Nobody was coming after me.

Once again, I have gotten away with murder.

I spent the second half of the journey trying to figure out what I’m going to say to Nell. I have to be very careful. She loved her mother, and she might not realize yet how much better off she’ll be without her. I’ve done her a massive favor, but she might not see it that way.

I haven’t quite figured it out when I knock on Lee’s front door. He comes to open it a minute later, and he looks tired, though at least he’s changed out of his pajamas into jeans and a sweatshirt. “Well?” he says.