Breaking Silence

Tomasetti doesn’t move, doesn’t even acknowledge him.

I barely spare them a glance. I can’t take my eyes off of Salome. I’m waiting for that initial chink in her armor. I want to see the innocent facade crumple and watch the monster emerge. I know better than anyone: Not all monsters are ugly beasts with horns.

“Your brothers told me everything, Salome. Everything. The beatings. The secrets. The sex. The fights. And then they told me about the murders.”

“They’re lying.” She says the words quietly, but her composure is beginning to slip.

“That’s how Solly got the wound on his head, isn’t it? You hit him with the shovel.”

“Stop it.” Salome manages to look crushed. “None of that is true.”

“Your datt didn’t rape you, did he?”

“He came to my room. I was afraid to tell. It went on for months! Years!”

Across from her, Adam Slabaugh covers his face with his hands. “Solly would not,” he says in a broken voice.

“He did!” Salome screams. “I told Mose about it, and he went crazy.” She looks wildly around the room, seeking an ally, any ally. For the first time, Adam Slabaugh doesn’t look prepared to jump in to defend her.

“Miss Slabaugh.” Thornsberry puts his hands beneath her arms, pulls her to her feet. “You don’t have to answer any of her questions. In fact, don’t say another word.” He jabs a finger at me. “What the hell’s your problem? I’ll have your goddamn job for this.”

I hold Salome’s gaze, pushing her hard. “Samuel and Ike overheard you and Mose talking about the murders. They told me everything. It’s over.”

“No!” She raises her hands as if to fend me off. “You’re lying. They didn’t hear anything.” Allowing her attorney to pull her away from me, she looks wildly around the room. “She’s lying. I’m a juvenile. She can’t treat me like this.”

I don’t relent. “You made one mistake, though, didn’t you?”

“Leave me alone!” The facade is breaking away, the rabid creature beneath advancing.

“You didn’t expect your mamm to fall into that pit, did you?”

“Shut up!”

“That’s when your plan starting falling apart. You underestimated the love a child has for his mother. You underestimated Ike and Samuel and the loyalty they felt toward their mamm and datt. Those boys saw through your phony love and empty promises. And they turned on you.”

“Mose did it! He did all of it! Not me!”

“You told him you were being raped every night. Every night. That drove him crazy, didn’t it? You manipulated him. Used him.”

“I didn’t. Mose did it. He killed them.”

“When you could no longer control your little brothers, you pushed them into the manure pit, too, didn’t you? You promised them you’d come back. You had no intention of saving them, did you? You were going to let them die.”

“No!”

“It was Mose who tossed the ball into the pit. He knew you were going to try to kill them and he couldn’t handle it.”

“He couldn’t handle anything! He was stupid and weak—”

“Stop this right now!” Thornsberry shouts at Tomasetti. “She’s badgering this juvenile!” He turns his attention back to Salome, trying to drag her from the room. “Miss Slabaugh, let’s go.”

Salome shakes him off. “I would have pulled my brothers out of that pit if you hadn’t shown up! You bitch, this is your fault! Yours!”

“Earlier, you said you didn’t even know they were in the pit,” I say. “Which is it?”

The attorney grabs her arm. “Let’s go.”

The girl spins and strikes him on the shoulder with her fist. “Get off me!” Her eyes never leave mine. “Mose panicked when he saw you! He dragged me to the shed and forced me into the car. He might have killed me, too!”

“He’s not here to defend himself, is he?” I say.

“Mose did all of it. All of it! I’m innocent.”

“You never loved him. He was a means to an end.”

“I did. I loved him. I would have married him!”

But I see the lie and push harder. “Did you think you and Mose were going to just ride into the sunset? After murdering three people?”

“We were going to live here … and take care of our brothers—”

“Your brothers hate you, Salome.”

“No, they don’t!” she screams.

“In fact, they chose me over you. Me. A stranger. And now they’re going to testify against you. You’re going to spend the rest of your life in prison—”

“You fucking bitch! I wish I’d killed you, too!”

The next thing I know, she’s across the table, coming at me with claws and teeth. An instant too late, I push back, but she’s already got me. Her nails sear down my face. Her left hand fists in my hair. As if in slow motion, I see Tomasetti rounding the table, rushing at us. Adam Slabaugh makes a wild grab for his niece as she goes over the tabletop. Thornsberry reels back, his mouth opening and closing like that of a beached catfish.

And then I’m falling backward in my chair, with Salome on top of me, like a cougar intent on mauling its prey.

CHAPTER 21

My chair goes over backward and I slam into the floor so hard, my head bounces off the tile. Stars fly before my eyes. I try to kick away the chair and get my legs under me, but my feet are tangled in the rungs. Before I can move, Salome is on top of me, hair flying, nails slashing at my face.

“You bitch!” She lands a blow to my left cheekbone, sending another scatter of stars to my eyes. “You ruined everything!”

When I look into her eyes, I see a total disconnect from reality. Animalistic screeches tear from her throat. “Why couldn’t you just go away! I wish you were dead! Dead!”

Vaguely, I’m aware of movement all around me—chairs scudding across the floor, the shuffle of feet. In my peripheral vision, I catch sight of Tomasetti kicking aside the chair. “Get off her!”

I hear the attorney’s ineffective “Hey!”

Salome’s fingernails rake across my left temple, dangerously close to my eye. “I hate you! I fucking hate you!”

I raise my hands to shove her away, but she’s too close. I can’t get any leverage. My training kicks in. I bring my elbow up hard, striking her beneath the chin. I hear her teeth click together. Her head snaps back. Stiff-armed, I jam the heel of my hand against her chest as hard as I can. A strangled scream tears from her throat as she reels back. I hear her head strike the table. Twisting, I wriggle out from beneath her, roll, bring up my feet to mule-kick her away.

Before I can, Tomasetti yanks her back. She twists and goes after him like a wild animal. He curses. Her attorney’s shouting in a tinny, alarmed voice. All of it is punctuated by Salome’s strangled screams. “She’s lying! I hate her! She killed Mose!” Her eyes are wild when they find mine. “Murderer!”

As abruptly as the ruckus began, the room goes silent and still. I use the fallen chair to get to my feet. I’m aware of the blood roaring in my ears, the drumbeat thud of my heart, the burn of a cut on my face. A few feet away, Tomasetti has Salome bent over, face against the table, while he cuffs her hands behind her back. A visibly shaken Adam Slabaugh stands to my right, shaking, breathing as if he just ran the Boston Marathon.

Tomasetti pulls Salome back from the table by the scruff of her neck and looks at me. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” I say automatically.