The Lost Saint(29)

“We’re not blaming, just investigating.”

Anger roiled in my stomach. Pete and his stupid accusations were making a fine mess of our lives. If Tyler and the market were connected, then this probably had more to do with his being at The Depot last night. Gah! Of course. The Depot! Those gamer guys had looked like they wanted to skin Tyler alive for messing up their game. What if they’d followed him home and decided to mess him up in return?

“Tyler likes to hang out a place called The Depot … in the city. Maybe you should—”

Daniel shot me a weighted look.

Deputy Marsh’s thin eyebrows perked into arches. “So you’re aware of Tyler’s whereabouts last night? That’s interesting. His friends were supposed to meet him at a place called The Depot, but he wasn’t around when they got there. Were you two following him?”

“Um … no.” Crap, how come everything I said made Daniel look guiltier? How could I tell them what I saw at the club without letting them know that I’d been there myself? It would only make it sound like I was following Tyler. “I’m just saying that I’ve heard it’s a dangerous place, and if Tyler went there and stepped on the wrong toes … like messed up someone’s video game, they might be mad enough to take it out on him.”

“You think Tyler was killed over a video game?” Deputy Marsh asked.

“It’s possible,” I said, but I didn’t sound like even I believed myself at this point. I really probably should just shut up.

“We’ll look into it,” Ford said. “But in the meantime, I have to ask you, Daniel, about your whereabouts last night.”

Daniel tensed beside me. I could almost feel the stress radiating off his body. He’d seemed so calm until this moment. I looked at him, waiting for his reply.

“I was here,” he said slowly, deliberately, “watching TV.”

“Between the hours of ten p.m. and one a.m.? What did you watch? Times? Channels? Any specific commercials you can remember?”

“Um …” Daniel’s fingers twitched next to mine. I wanted to grab his hand to calm the tic before the others noticed it—but that would probably be just as noticeable. “I don’t recall anything specific.”

“Really,” Deputy Marsh asked, “nothing at all?” He put his hands on his hips and puffed out his chest like he was preparing to grab Daniel and haul him down to the station. The cocky smile on his face made it seem like he’d enjoy doing it, too.

Daniel took a slight step back, his fingers still twitching. “I’m sorry. I really can’t remember.”

I stepped forward. “What he means is that he was distracted. We were here … together. The TV was on, but we weren’t exactly, you know, watching it.” I blushed even though I wasn’t telling the truth, but hopefully it would blend in with the red splotches that always painted my neck whenever I lied.

Daniel gave me a look like he was surprised by my acting abilities—but hopefully grateful.

“I stayed until about two a.m. Daniel just didn’t mention it because, you know … you won’t tell my dad, will you?” I asked, wringing my hands. I didn’t even have to act that part. “Please?”

Sheriff Ford cleared his throat. “And you’re sure you were here with him the whole time, alone?”

I nodded.

“Very well, then.” Ford slipped his notepad into his pocket. “That’s all I needed to know.”

Marsh’s shoulders dropped, though the cocky smirk stayed on his face. He indicated the duffel bag strapped to Daniel’s bike. “I hope you’re not planning on leaving town anytime soon.”

“No, sir,” Daniel said quietly.

“We’ll be watching you,” Deputy Marsh said.

Daniel and I stood side by side and watched the two officers climb into the truck and drive away. Daniel’s fingers twitched even after they were gone. I grabbed his hand before he could turn away.

“So tell me,” I said. “Where were you last night?”





A FULL SIXTY SECONDS OF SILENCE LATER




The longer Daniel went without speaking, the more my muscles tensed. I could feel that familiar aching inside of me—like I did when I knew something was wrong. It was that same feeling that made me want to fight or run.

Daniel tugged at my grasp on his hand. I was squeezing it tighter than I realized. His fingertips were bright red.

I let go of his hand. I felt a rush of guilt as he rubbed his fingers and then the bandage on his forearm. I was sure I’d aggravated the pain of his stitches. But that guilt edged into anger. Why should you feel guilty when he’s the one in the wrong? a foreign voice said inside my mind. I shook myself. I don’t know why I’d even thought that. There was no excuse for causing someone pain.

“Why won’t you tell me where you were last night?” I asked. “It should be a simple question.”

Daniel scratched behind his ear and looked off into the twilight that surrounded us now. “I said it already. I was here. Watching TV.”

He’s lying, said that foreign voice inside my head. You lied to the cops for him, and he pays you back with more lies.

I took a step back. Why was I hearing a voice inside my head that didn’t even sound like my own? But it pointed out the blaring truth.