No one askedWhere were you–type questions for good reasons.
Andrew’s skin felt too tight.
“This morning,” Thomas said, guarded.
“You live in the city? An hour’s drive, isn’t it?”
“I took an early bus.”
“Do you still have your ticket? Is it time-stamped?”
“Officers.” The principal had an odd edge to her voice. “I was informed this would be a meeting to relay sensitive information, not an interrogation. Do I need to place a call to his guardians?”
“Unfortunately, that’s why we’re here, Mrs.—”
“Doctor Grant.”
“My apologies. This is following up on a concerning 911call. Neighbors reported hearing loud noises coming from your home last night, Mr. Rye. Screams.”
Andrew forgot how to breathe. The moment didn’t seem real: kneeling bunched up next to a keyhole, listening to his best friend, hisheart, be dissected.
“Nobody was home this morning,” the detective went on. “House was trashed. Looks like an animal tore through. And there’s… blood. Due to the volume of blood, we surmise it’s not yours, so we’re just wondering if you knew anything about that.”
“Excuse me.” Footsteps sounded like the principal had marched out from behind her desk. “Does Thomas need a lawyer present? What exactly are you implying?”
“Not implying anything, ma’am. We are merely trying to get ahold of the boy’s parents, but no one is answering calls. Did they say they were going out of town, Thomas?”
Silence. It lasted a beat too long before Thomas mumbled, “I don’t know. Maybe.”
“It was quite a lot of blood.”
“Did you inquire at local hospitals?” the principal said.
“Of course, ma’am. So, Thomas, was there a fight last night? Or a party, maybe? Anything get a bit rough?”
“No.” Thomas bit out the word like he wanted it to eviscerate the detective. “I don’t know anything. I’d already left.”
Bell’s voice sharpened. “But you said you only left this morning.”
“Yes… really early. It was still dark. That’s what I meant.”
“All right, no need to get agitated. We’re sure you’re worried about your parents.”
Thomas didn’t sound worried—that was the first thing Andrew had noticed. But maybe he could read Thomas too well. He imagined Thomas’s body language right now, taut and defensive, fingers picking at his bottom lip or a loose thread.
Or at the bloody sleeve hidden under the borrowed blazer.
“I’m sure your folks are fine, but we’ll have the blood tested and continue trying to locate them. Dr. Grant, would you reach out to his emergency contact and alert them of the situation?”
The voices continued for a minute as information was exchanged, and then the doorknob turned.
Andrew’s brain caught up a beat too late as the office door started opening. Then he remembered to run.
He made it to the top of the stairs before realizing flinging himself down would look even more guilty. He was so bad at subterfuge. He pretended to stare at one of the vaguely impressionistic art pieces on the wall as the cops passed behind him.
“—did you think?”
“Kid is lying.” The detective said it with finality. “And I want to know why.”
