Dr. Ainsworth sat very still. “People want to help you, Cade. That’s all. They just want to help.”
“I can’t believe him. I’m done.” Cade pushed out of the chair and strode heavily toward the door. His father knew. Or at least suspected. But how? And why? Was it just based on what his father had known for a long, long time?
Cade paused and looked back at Dr. Ainsworth, who had not moved.
“Next time my father calls, do me a favor?”
Dr. Ainsworth didn’t say anything. Both of her hands were on either side of his folio. The same one he’d had since he’d started seeing Dr. Ainsworth when he was just a boy.
“Remind him I’m not my sister.”
And then Cade was gone before Dr. Ainsworth said a thing to stop him.
He walked through the waiting room and pushed out the glass door onto the sidewalk.
His father was onto Cade. He knew he had something to do with it.
Cade looked up and down the street, and back, over his shoulder. Was his father having him followed? Was that how he knew? Or had he seen it in Cade since the incident?
Would his father go as far as turning him in? Cade wasn’t so sure. He wouldn’t put anything past the man.
Cade was suddenly hot-cold, like dry ice had been pressed against his chest.
He couldn’t go out like this.
He needed to pin this on someone. Someone who actually could have committed the crime. Anyone but him. Kinley was probably too smart, but Mattie . . . he was kind and soft-hearted. That meant weakness. And for people like Cade, and his father, that meant triumph.
But there was also Tyler. And Tyler . . . well, he’d been in trouble for everything else. Would it be a leap for people to believe he could be capable of murder, too?
If he could frame Tyler, his work would be done for him. They’d never suspect Cade again, even if Cade had been the one who . . .
He hadn’t meant to kill him. Cade was usually more subtle than that.
He wasn’t going to go to prison for accidentally offing the most evil man in the universe.
Someone else would have to do that for him.
Ivy
Friday, June 26
“Why did you kill him?”
Ivy stared across the kitchen table at her brother, her eyes wide. “What?” she asked. Her hands gripped the wood, her fingernails bending against the hard surface.
“Dr. Stratford. Why did you kill him?” her brother asked, very calmly. Very matter-of-factly. As if they had already established that Ivy was a murderer.
As if he’d known the entire time.
Ivy’s whole body started falling apart from the inside. First, her heart began to slow. Then she felt her stomach shrinking in on itself.
She was going to die. She was going to die right there at the kitchen table.
The corner of Daniel’s mouth quirked up, and he started laughing. “Geez, Ivy, chill out, okay? I told you! I’m just practicing! I’m going to ask the hard questions, okay? Plus, since you actually knew the guy, you’re good practice.” He winked at her. “You’d be surprised how many supposedly minute details have led to arrests. Real arrests.”
That’s what Ivy was afraid of. She took a slow breath and hoped Daniel didn’t notice her shaking. She moved her hands from the table and wrapped them around each side of her chair, like she was trying to hold on.
Maybe she was.
“I don’t have much time,” she told her brother. “We have class tonight, and I’m trying to get in good with the new professor.”
“But you already had class with her,” Daniel said, confused.
“Yeah, twice, but basically all she has done is introduce herself and talk about how sorry she is about Dr. Stratford’s disappearance. Last class, she sipped on an actual glass of prune juice. Seriously, Daniel, if I make her wait she might actually die. She’s that old.”
The words sounded callous in her ears, now, but they were words the Old Ivy would have used easily. Flippantly, even. So New Ivy had to use them too.
She hated herself.
“Hey, I should hook you up to the lie detector sometime. We have an old one down at the station. We’re not really allowed to use them since they say you can fool them now.”
“Boring.” Ivy pretended to yawn, but her insides were jumping. She could never go there, never do that, because then he’d know. “Is it over? Can I go?”
“Just sit tight, okay?” Her brother pulled a crumpled piece of paper out of the pocket of his khakis.
“Really? That’s how you interview a criminal? With a love note from high school? Did someone toss that to you after they got their cell phone taken away?”
She hated herself even more. But she needed him to leave her alone.
“Ivy, seriously? I’m trying here.” He smoothed the paper out on the table and cleared his throat. “Okay. You have to state your name. So, please state it.”
“Ivy Katherine McWhellen.”