Heartbreak Bay (Stillhouse Lake #5) - Rachel Caine Page 0,102

of wonder why he thinks you should be the one in handcuffs, considering all that.”

“I didn’t want to bring you in here,” Holland says. He’s still directing it toward Connor, not me. “Tried real hard to avoid it, in fact.”

I snap my fingers and tap the table. “Hey. Talk to me. Not to him. He’s done answering.”

Holland does, finally. He meets my gaze squarely and holds it. He looks genuinely sorrowful. They’ve deployed their A game on this, I can feel it; he probably cracks a lot of suspects just through sheer empathy. It’d work with Connor, if I’d allow that.

I smile. “Go ahead and tell me what you think you have. Because I guarantee you, you have nothing worth pursuing.”

“I have a witness who swears he saw Connor with a gun. Showing it off at school last week, in fact. He goes by Ripperkid on that message board, did you know that? And we’ve also got another witness who heard Connor publicly state on multiple occasions that he intends to kill a whole bunch of people. We take that seriously, Mr. Cade. I sure hope you do too.”

“That’s a lie!” Connor leans forward, his face flushed, fists clenched. I tighten my grip on his shoulder and get him to lean back. “Dad! I didn’t!”

“Maybe it is, son,” Holland says. He seems sorrowful about it. “But those two people called in complaints yesterday. Before this post was ever made.”

“Convenient timing,” I tell him. “You have any corroboration on that? Other kids who back it up?”

Holland doesn’t say anything. He just sighs. “Mr. Cade, we both know that I can lie about that to you—tell you I’ve got twenty kids all on the record, tell you there’s school video, tell you all manner of things. And even if I wasn’t lying, you’d obviously believe I was. So I don’t know how you want me to answer that question in a way that makes sense. But I’ll tell you this, and I’m being as straight as I can: I have corroboration.”

I open my mouth, then close it. I need to take my own advice. I don’t look at Connor. I stare straight at the detective, and he stares back, and then finally he scoots his chair back. “I’ll let you know when your lawyer gets here,” he says.

The door shuts behind him, and I hear the lock click. We’re not going anywhere.

Connor says, “Sam, I didn’t—”

“Don’t,” I say. “They have cameras in the room, and they can hear anything we say. Tell me once your lawyer gets here because they’ll have to turn them off, but not until then. Okay?”

He looks miserable, pale, absolutely wretched. But he nods. I put my arm around him, and we lean together in silence. I’m scared for him. It’s hard to read Holland. He might be telling the truth about a witness, and about having more than one. I don’t know. I still believe Connor, but . . . this isn’t looking good.

It takes an eternity—well, two and a half hours—for our attorney to arrive and the police to decide they won’t try to charge Connor. Which tells me that if they do have witnesses, they’re not confident about them. Not yet.

We drive home. I’m so tired I feel lightheaded, and I have to focus hard on the road, but I say, “Ripperkid?”

Connor winces. “I know,” he says. “That—doesn’t look great.”

“Want to tell me why you picked it?”

“It’s what they call me at school,” he says. “Once word got around. And word always gets around. I figured I probably should own it. I talked to Lanny about it. She thought it was cool.”

Oh, Lanny. Of course she did. And the fact that neither of them told us . . . shouldn’t surprise me, really. They’re both at an age where what they tell their folks and what they actually do are two divergent courses. “That’s why you answered questions about Melvin,” I say. “To own it?”

“Yeah. I mean . . . better they think I’m kind of edgy than somebody they can kick around.”

As coping strategies go, it actually isn’t terrible. I know Gwen won’t like it, but I see the point very clearly. “Hey, kid? I love you. You know that, don’t you?”

“Thanks, Dad,” he says. “I love you too.” He doesn’t often say it. I don’t either. It’s a guy thing. But it seemed right, in this quiet moment, and I feel better for it. I hope he does too. “Mom’s going to kick