She fussed with her hands a moment, clearly wondering if she should take the report out and simply read from it, but instead, she merely gave him the gist, “That your stepfather had attacked her and she’d, accidentally, knocked him back against the wall.”
His forehead furrowed.“Thatsheknocked him back?”
She’d lied to the cops.She hadn’t told them what he’d done.But if that was the case then why was he suspected of murdering his stepfather now?
Rachel nodded.“That’s what she told the police.”
“But they didn’t believe her?”
How could they?He’d battered the man to a pulp.An “accidental” push or shove–even repeated pushes and shoves–couldn’t do that.
“The damage to the body was… extensive, especially the head, and the blood splatter…” Her voice drifted off.“The evidence didn’t support her version of events.And then there was the fact that you were missing.”
He swallowed.Yet surely the police had realized that a young teenager couldn’t have done what had been done to his stepfather’s body either unless she’d confessed to whatactuallyhappened.
But who would believe her?
Yet people were believing thatnow.But the Sect of Dawn knew–or guessed–that he wasn’t normal.How had he gotten away from Jill?Even a completely incompentent Vampire should have been able to handle him if he werenormal.So they’d dug and found his stepfather’s death and all the inconsistencies with it.
“At first, the police suspected that you’d been killed, too–”
“What?!”The word hissed out between his teeth.
He had never considered that his disappearance would be thought of as anything other than what it was: running away after killing a man.But that was foolish.Of course, the police didn’t think a teenager had done this.They thought his mom had and maybe killedhimtoo…
Her hands, which had been folded before her on the table, clenched so tightly that her knuckles went white.“I was looking out the window that night and I told the police I saw you leaving.”
“You saw me?”
“Yes, don’t you remember?I called out to you,” she said.
He closed his eyes and tried to remember.He’d flown out of the house, the front screen door slamming behind him.There was the churr of night insects and his own breathing.Both frantic and singing.He’d thought he’d heard someone calling his name, at first softly and then louder.But he hadn’t stopped running.He opened his eyes.
“I remember,” he told her.“And you told the police you’d seen me.”
She hung her head.“Yes.”
“Thank god,” he whispered.
Her head jerked up.“What?But I thought–”
“They thought she murdered me, didn’t they?My mom?The police thought she’d done it?”he confirmed.
She nodded.“I guess so.”
“And you told them she didn't… that’s good.They knew she couldn’t have done it if you saw me leaving.”He shook his head in relief.“I never considered that she’d get in trouble.I thought…”
He hadn’t known what he’d thought.Only that he kept replaying her horrified expression that she’d turned on him after it was done.That he couldn’t forget.He’d moved towards her too.
“Mom?”he’d said in this wavering voice.
And she’d jerked back from him.Frightened.Terrified.Her son was a monster.He’d just killed her husband in the most brutal way.He might turn his teenage rage against her.Logical.Entirely wrong, but logical.He just couldn’t forgive her for it.But to know now that she’d never given him up to the police?Thatshe’dtried to take the blame?
“I didn’t think about it like that.I suppose that wasgood.But it made you seem guilty in their eyes so…” Her voice drifted off.
“You blame yourself for that?”He was startled by this.
“Of course, if I hadn’t told them–”
