Chapter 12
CHAPTER TWELVE
The need to tell Mom about Mr. Clint’s weirdness vanished when I saw the white public service warning screen on the television at home.
“What’s going on?” I asked, kicking off my shoes.
Mom looked up from her reader, her face pale.
“It’s happening.”
“What is?”
She tipped her reader toward me as I walked over. Her hands were shaking so badly that I needed to take it from her to read the words.
Skinned remains found in a Southern Wisconsin town.
Following the journalism laws, they’d blurred out the image, but not enough to make it unrecognizable as bloody human remains in a field.
Local authorities were working with experts to identify the victim—a male who died last Sunday—and to search for leads. The field where he’d been discovered wasn’t far from town.
Mom got up and walked to the kitchen.
I glanced at her as she stood there, trembling and looking lost, and felt a thread of worry.
“Hey, why don’t we make lunch together?” I suggested, popping up from the couch. “How do you feel about an extreme grilled cheese sandwich with tomato soup?”
As I spoke, I hurriedly tossed my bag into my room and joined her.
She nodded and moved to the fridge while I washed my hands.
Her willingness to make a higher-calorie meal revealed the severity of her internal crisis. She wasn’t okay. As soon as I had everything started, I suggested she take a quick smoke break to calm her nerves.
She moved to her room on autopilot. When she came back ten minutes later, she looked a little better. Less vacant stare from shock, and more from the smoke.
“Just in time,” I said, setting down the plates. “Homemade tomato soup with grilled cheese. The best comfort food on the planet. I put an extra slice of cheddar in yours. No complaining. Eat it. Cheese is happiness.”
She managed a weak smile and bit into her food. I dredged mine through the soup first.
“Are you still thinking of going to Grandma’s?” she asked suddenly.
Understanding her fear better, I calmly set my food down.
“Should I be?”
“What if we go together?” she asked hopefully.
“Is this still about Sam, Mom?”
Even though I was starting to believe he was a werewolf, I didn’t think he was a murderer.
She toyed with her sandwich, not looking at me for a moment. When she did, I saw her determination.
“It’s about us, Clarity. I know I’ve made mistakes, more lately than I should have, but one thing I’ve always tried to do right is to keep you safe.”
“And selling our house and moving in with grandma will keep us safe? What happens when someone dies near her house? People are always dying, Mom.”
“Not like this, Clarity. Please. It’s too dangerous here.”
Frustration wormed under my skin.
“I understand you’re afraid. You have good reason to be. It takes a very sick person to hurt someone like that. But, don’t you think we should give the authorities a chance to find who did it before we make any rash decisions?”
The look in her eyes said she did not agree. I didn’t bother holding back my frustrated sigh.
“Can we finish lunch before we start arguing?” I asked.
She bit into her sandwich. I was about to do the same when someone knocked on the door.
Knowing it was Sam, I jumped up to answer.
A rush of calm reassurance wrapped around me the second I saw him. Without hesitating, I threw myself into his arms. He caught me, holding me in a way that felt protected. Safe. The hand on the back of my head stroked my hair.
“Another fight?” he asked softly.
I shook my head, stepped back, and motioned for him to come in.
When I turned, Mom’s spot was empty. Her bedroom door was open just enough to know she wasn’t smoking again, though. She was giving us some moderate privacy.
“What’s going on?” he asked, staying on the front step.
“There was a murder nearby. Mom’s upset and wants to move.”
Sam didn’t seem shocked by the murder news, but he did frown when I mentioned moving.
“Your mom’s right to be worried. I’d feel better if you didn’t go out alone anymore. At least until they find whoever’s responsible. If you want to walk to the library, come get me. I’m happy to tag along.”
Happy to tag along?
That didn’t sound like werewolf-level devotion. But he had conveniently shown up at just the right time yet again. So was he a werewolf who bit me and obsessively moved next door, or was he simply a nice guy with great timing who liked me?
Needing to know, I turned my thoughts to the kiss we’d shared in the haunted house. My heart skipped a beat, and my stomach tightened at the memory. A thread of desire wrapped around me.
Mine or his, though?
My gaze dipped to his lips.
He cleared his throat. “Something came up with my parents, so I can’t stay long, but I wanted to keep my promise and stop by.”
I nodded, only partly listening as I debated jumping into his arms so I could wrap my legs around his waist and reenact the kiss. Had it really been as hot as I remembered?
He reached out, his hand capturing the back of my head. The way his fingers teased my hair added to my need.
“Clarity, I’ve got to go. Remember, no walking alone. If I’m not home, wait for me. Okay?”
Lost in my daydream, I didn’t immediately answer.
He made a soft sound, like a growl, and darted in to brush his lips against mine.
“Behave, Clarity.”
Before I could register what he intended, he released me and walked away. I stared after his perfect backside for several seconds, pouted, and closed the door.
That experiment hadn’t proven anything. Well, not true. It proved I still had it bad for my neighbor.
“He’s right,” Mom said, startling me. “No going anywhere on your own, okay?”
She looked and sounded much calmer as she sat at the table.
Knowing her request was coming from a place of love and concern rather than control, I agreed.
Cars lined the drop-off zone for the first time ever as we pulled up to the school.
“Looks like I’m not the only parent worried about their kid,” Mom said, joining the queue.
She wasn’t wrong. The number of students lingering outside of the school’s security checkpoint made me believe none of the parents had let their kids walk today.
“Pretty sure dropping your kid off the day after someone was murdered nearby is a normal reaction,” I said, hoping Mom heard what I wasn’t saying—that moving wasn’t.
“I’m surprised they’re letting everyone stay outside like this,” she said.
“Same, actually.”
She came to a full stop to let me off, and just as I opened my door, an announcement blared over the school speakers.
“Students should proceed to their first-period classrooms. Any student lingering in the drop-off zone will receive a disciplinary warning.”
I made a face at Mom and got out.
“Wait for me after school,” she said. “No walking.”
Nodding, I shut the door and started to follow the stream of people inside.
Around me, everyone was talking about the death and speculating who it might be. One girl said she’d already reached out to her entire contact list to check on everyone. She was waiting to hear from a few people yet.
I thought of my small contact list and Sam, whom I hadn’t seen since he’d left on Saturday.
Why didn’t I have his contact information yet?
Talk quieted after the first period bell rang but didn’t stop completely. Not that I blamed anyone. Classes were boring, and disciplinary warnings for talking were frequent on an average school day.
By lunch, the cafeteria was buzzing.
I sat at my usual table—one away from everyone else so that I could read—but didn’t take out my reader. Curious who’d died, I listened instead.
Mirae spotted me and headed over with another girl, Jene, from Friday night.
“Over one hundred known victims,” Mirae said, sitting.
“That’s what one article noted before it was taken down as panic-inciting news.
But it wasn’t some random panic propaganda; it was fact.
A friend of mine screen-captured the list of cases it cited from the last twenty years.
Every single one was real and followed the same profile as this one. ”
“I can’t decide what’s scarier,” Jene said. “The murder or the fact that our government is suppressing it’s a serial killer. Wouldn’t awareness keep us safer?”
“They’re not suppressing any of the murder cases,” Len said, his shoulder brushing mine as he dropped into the seat beside me with his tray.
“They’re trying to keep people from panicking.
We’ve all seen the vids from twenty years ago.
My parents are so worried it’ll happen again that they brought the storm bars up from the basement. ”
He picked up his fork.
“Instead of obsessing over the numbers, we should help the police figure out who the victim is,” he said. “The longer that takes, the more time the killer has to disappear. Has everyone heard back from their contact lists?”
Mirae and Jene nodded. They all looked at me.
My contact list consisted of my mom and, just recently, my grandma.
“Yeah,” I said, feeling out of place.
“Hand over your reader so I can add my contact info,” Mirae said.
I hesitantly surrendered it, but no one commented as they entered their information. Len handed it back after he finished.
“We should stay in touch until they find who did it,” he said.
The others agreed, and the conversation shifted to classes and assignments until the bell rang.
By the end of the day, the school had canceled after-school activities, which meant the same chaos from drop-off awaited outside for pickup.
After scanning the idling cars and not seeing Mom, I checked my reader.
Running late. Stay there. No walking.
Tucking my reader away, I watched the pickup line as my thoughts drifted to the new library book I’d started last night. It followed the standard “love at first sight” aggressive-pursuit formula, leaning more towards emotional than physical pursuit.
It reminded me of my growing relationship with Sam and my craving for some physical pursuit.