The Bad Daughter(28)

“Okay. It’s okay. Calm down, sweetheart,” Robin said. “There’s no rush. We’ll take this very slowly. Okay, Sheriff? Okay, Cassidy?”

Cassidy nodded, tears falling down her cheeks. The sheriff took another step back.

“Do you know who shot you, sweetheart?” Robin repeated after a pause of several seconds.

“No. They were wearing masks. I couldn’t see their faces.”

“They?” Sheriff Prescott interjected. “How many were there?”

“Two. Maybe three. I’m not sure.”

“That’s okay,” Robin said. “Now we know that more than one person was involved. That’s good, Cassidy. You’re doing great.”

“Could you tell if they were men or women?” the sheriff asked.

“Men, I think. They were tall. Big. They were dressed all in black.”

“What kind of masks were they wearing?”

“Like for skiing.”

“Okay,” the sheriff said. “That’s good, Cassidy.”

“You’re doing great,” Robin said again, patting the child’s thin arm.

“Do you know how these people got in the house?”

Cassidy shook her head. “No. It was late. I was asleep. I remember…”

“What do you remember?” Robin asked as Cassidy’s eyes once again threatened to close.

“I remember hearing voices,” Cassidy responded. “Really loud. They woke me up.”

“Did you recognize the voices?”

“Just Daddy’s.”

Robin noticed Melanie’s shoulders stiffen on the word “daddy.”

“Could you hear what was being said?” the sheriff asked.

“No. There was just suddenly all this yelling. At first I thought it was my dad yelling at my mom about something…”

“Did they fight often?” Sheriff Prescott asked.

“No. Never. That’s what was so confusing. They were so happy…Oh, God, oh, God.” Her eyes widened, as if she’d just caught a glimpse of something horrific.

“Go on, Cassidy,” the sheriff urged. “You were asleep. Loud voices woke you up…”

“I looked at the clock beside my bed. It was after midnight. I wondered who it was so late at night, and why they were so mad. I climbed out of bed, went into the hall, crept down the stairs. The voices got louder,” she continued, speaking as if she were in a trance. “I got closer, and I saw two men,” she said. “One of them was waving a gun and saying, ‘Stop fucking with me, you piece of shit, or I swear I’ll shoot the bitch,’?” Cassidy repeated in a voice not her own, the words jarring as they came from the child’s mouth. “?‘I’ll shoot the bitch right now.’?”

“And you’re sure you didn’t recognize the man’s voice?”

“I’m sure.”

“What about the second man?”

“He never said anything. He just stood there.”

“Think, Cassidy. Was there a third man, maybe standing guard in the hall?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. I don’t know.”

“Then what happened?” the sheriff asked.

“All of a sudden Daddy lunged…”

Robin watched Melanie wince at the word “daddy.”

“You saw him lunge?”

Cassidy nodded, relating the events as if she were narrating a scene from a movie. “And the man whacked him with the gun on the side of his head, and Daddy fell to his knees. And Mommy started screaming,” she said, one sentence tumbling into the next, “and the other guy shot her…Oh, God! He just kept shooting her. I screamed and the men spun around. And I ran. I heard more shots. I turned back and saw a man coming after me. But he tripped running up the stairs and I got to my room and grabbed the phone to call nine-one-one. And then the man burst through the door. He pointed his gun at my chest…” She stopped, looking around helplessly, as if trying to connect a series of invisible dots. “I don’t remember being shot.”

“You’re very lucky to be alive,” the sheriff said.

There was silence, the word “lucky” ricocheting through the still air like a stray bullet.

“The man who shot you,” the sheriff continued, “was he one of the men in the living room? Or was he someone else?”

“I don’t know. Oh, God. They’re dead, aren’t they?” Cassidy wailed. “Mommy…Daddy…they’re both dead.”

More silence, then, “I’m afraid that your mother succumbed to her wounds yesterday morning.”

Cassidy’s strangled cry shook the room. “And Daddy?”

“It doesn’t look good.”

“What do you mean?”

“He’s still breathing,” Robin said, “but…”

“But he’s alive?”

“Barely,” Melanie said. “You can’t get your hopes up.”

“He’s alive,” Cassidy repeated.

“Yes,” Robin said. “He’s alive.”

“He’ll make it. You’ll see,” Cassidy insisted before bursting into tears. “Oh, God. My poor mommy. Why couldn’t they just take what they wanted and leave us alone? Why did they have to shoot us?”