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Chapter Forty-Six

The chief of police is at my front door.

It was hard enough when he questioned me at school. But showing up at my home is on another level. Why is he here? Is it about Alison?

“Sorry to bother you, Mrs. Brewer.” Chief Driscoll is wearing the same checked tie and white dress shirt he had on this morning, but this time paired with a blue blazer. “I just have a few questions for Tom.”

Despite the fact that she was quizzing me herself a few moments ago, my mother steps between me and the police chief. “About what?”

He presses his lips together, obviously nonplussed that she won’t step back and let him in. “About Alison Danzinger.”

My mother considers this, but she doesn’t move away from the door. “Why do you need to talk to Tom about her?”

“Alison was brutally murdered.” Chief Driscoll’s voice is grave. “I’m talking to everyone who knew Alison well, in hopes that we can find the monster who did this and bring them to justice.”

I am almost hoping that my mother will continue to refuse to allow him into the house, but instead she steps aside. At the same time, I instinctively take a step back.

“You can talk in the living room, Jim,” Mom tells him.

I follow my mother into the living room, giving myself a pep talk in my head. I already talked to the police chief. He doesn’t know anything, or else he would be handcuffing me as we speak. He’s just fishing.

I sit on the couch, and my mother sits next to me, her leg nearly touching mine. The chief sits on my father’s armchair, across from us. He’s wearing that same grim expression he had in the principal’s office, except much worse. Because back then, they were hoping they might find Alison alive. Now they know what has happened to her.

There’s no hope for Alison—all they can do is bring her killer to justice.

“Tom.” He grimaces. “Daisy told me she spoke to you about how we found Alison.”

“Yes.” Although she didn’t tell me anything that hasn’t been all over the news for almost the last twenty-four hours.

“I’ve also heard from several students,” he continues, “that you and Alison did not get along. She wasn’t happy about you dating Daisy.”

My mother stiffens beside me, and I have to struggle to keep my composure. “It wasn’t a big deal.”

He clears his throat. “And you told me you were home the night before last?”

“Right,” I confirm. “All night.”

“And your father was here with you?”

“Right.”

The chief casts a look in the direction of the stairs. “Is your father here right now? Can I speak with him?”

“My husband isn’t here at the moment,” my mother speaks up. “But I’ll have him call you as soon as he gets back.”

“Where is he?”

“Still at work,” my mother says without hesitation.

He nods, accepting my mother’s lie. I don’t know why she lied on my behalf. She knows he’s not at work.

“Please have him call me as soon as possible,” the chief says.

“Absolutely.” My mother wrinkles her brow. “But honestly, Jim, I’m not sure how you think Tom could possibly be involved in this. You’ve known my son since he was a baby. Do you really think he would do anything to hurt Alison?”

I’m hoping he’ll agree with her and say he’s just doing his due diligence. But that same sober expression never leaves his face. “I have to tell you, Luann, after talking with several students in the class, I have some concerns about Tom.”

What the hell does that mean? Who is talking to him about me? And what did they say? What concerns ?

“What concerns are you referring to?” my mother snaps at him.

“Just some rumors.” He rubs his hands over his knees. “About Tom and Alison. And about Tom and Brandi.”

Oh no. Somebody told him about me and Brandi. Now he probably thinks I killed her.

“I’ll tell you what,” the chief says to my mother, “when your husband gets back, why don’t the three of you come down to the station. I’d like to discuss all this in more detail and get a formal statement.”

Come down to the station? That sounds…terrifying.

“My husband will be tired when he gets back from work,” my mother says stiffly.

“Tomorrow morning then.”

“I just don’t understand all this suspicion around my son, Jim,” she says. “You know Tom is a good boy. You wouldn’t have let him date your daughter otherwise.”

“No,” he agrees, “I wouldn’t have.”

It’s at that moment I realize Chief Driscoll will never let me near Daisy ever again. Even if all this somehow blows over and I don’t end up behind bars, what I had with Daisy is over. We’re not going to the same college. We’re not going to get married. It’s over .

But right now, I can’t even think about any of that. I just want the chief out of my house.

He stands up from the armchair, brushing off invisible dirt from the legs of his pants. He starts to turn to head for the door, but all of a sudden he stops short.

“Hey,” he says, “what’s that?”

I follow his line of vision, which is directed at the side of the sofa. My throat constricts when I realize what he’s looking at.

There is a spot of dried blood on the sofa.

I thought I cleaned off every bit of blood, but to be fair, it was everywhere . I wouldn’t be surprised if there’s more blood that I missed in some crack or crevice of the house. The sofa is not that close to where I slashed my father’s throat, but arterial spray is very strong, and I’m sure I hit his carotid in addition to the jugular I was aiming for.

Of course, Chief Driscoll can’t know for sure that’s what it is. It looks like a brownish red circle on the tan fabric. But when I look up, my mother’s face is the color of a sheet of paper.

“We were painting,” she says finally.

“Painting?” He lifts an eyebrow. “That’s a strange color for paint.”

“We were painting an art project.” She looks over at me. “For Tom.”

“I see.” He nods slowly. “You mind if I get a sample of that…paint.”

“Actually, I do mind.” My mother lifts her chin. “Tom and I were in the middle of having dinner, and we’ve given you enough of our time already. I don’t see the point of you taking a sample of some paint on our sofa.”

“It’ll just take a second, Luann. I got a kit in the trunk of my car.”

She narrows her eyes at him. “Don’t you need a warrant for something like that?”

Chief Driscoll takes a moment to absorb her words. Finally, he stuffs his hands into his pockets. “If you want me to get a warrant, I’ll go ahead and do that then.”

My mother practically shoves the police chief out our front door, and I can’t breathe normally until she’s turned the lock. As soon as the dead bolt has been turned, my mother leans against the door, her shoulders heaving slightly, her eyes downcast.

“Mom?” I say.

She is looking down at the floor, where the rug used to be. “Go to your room, Tom.”

“But—”

“Go. Please. I…” She lifts her eyes to look at me. “I need to be alone right now.”

I do what my mother tells me. I head up the stairs to my room and shut myself inside. And when I come out to use the bathroom half an hour later, my mother is crouched in the living room, scrubbing at the base of the sofa.