The Killing Moon Dan Padavona (world of reading .TXT) 📖

her, Valerie had stuffed the wallet inside her knapsack. If the sheriff returned and discovered the wallet, he’d blame Valerie for killing Derek. Claim she murdered him and stole his money. Her gaze jerked to the knapsack. The bag lay zipped on the bed with the incriminating evidence beneath her books.

What to do?

She wanted to come clean, call the sheriff’s department, and explain what happened. Maybe a CSI team could lift the killer’s fingerprints off the wallet. But she’d watched too many movies in which the victim took the blame. Circumstantial evidence landed innocent people atop the suspect list.

She pawed inside her pocket for her phone and messaged Leland. He’d know what to do. She waited for a reply that never came. Begging the boy to answer, she called his phone and listened to it ring. Leland always answered. The boy practically tied himself to his phone and social media accounts. Something was wrong.

Valerie slipped the phone into her pocket and listened. Her father’s footfalls thundered across the floor and shook the walls as he paced from the kitchen to the living room. Valerie unlocked the door and edged it open, placing her face between the door and jamb.

“Ed? You didn’t hurt that boy, did you?”

Valerie’s hands turned clammy. Suddenly, she felt sick to her stomach. Sensing her anxiety, Loomis sprang from her lap and scurried inside the closet again.

“Of course I didn’t hurt him. Why would you ask something that stupid?”

There was a quiver in her father’s voice that made Valerie question his honesty. No. Her father could be a bastard, but he wouldn’t murder her boyfriend.

“Then call the sheriff and allow him to look at the car. We need to clear our names.”

The slap sent a shock through Valerie. Silence followed downstairs. Then her mother cried.

“You son-of-a-bitch,” Valerie whispered through the opening. “If you ever hurt her again…”

Her words trailed off when Ed crossed the floor. Worried her father would climb the stairs and catch Valerie eavesdropping, she shoved the door shut and twisted the lock.

“You’re so stupid, Charisse. I’m protecting my daughter. That’s why I ordered the sheriff to leave.”

Charisse sniffled.

“How the hell are you protecting Valerie?”

“What if she stole the car after we fell asleep? We both drank at dinner. With your godforsaken noise maker on all night, neither of us would have heard the engine.”

“What are you saying, Ed? You believe Valerie stole our car, drove to the tracks, and murdered her boyfriend? That’s crazy.”

“Don’t call me crazy.”

Valerie trembled. Why would her father accuse Valerie of killing Derek? To protect himself?

“Valerie wouldn’t hurt her friends.”

“You see the things she’s into. Serial killers, horror movies. What do you think she does on that computer all night? She’s hiding in a dark place, Charisse. We should have cut her off from horror movies years ago. Another mistake I made by listening to you.”

“But they’re just movies.”

“Yeah? Someone butchered that kid. Stabbed him seven times in the chest and left him bleeding beside the tracks.” Valerie’s father seemed to know everything about the murder. Had the sheriff revealed the details? Or had Ed Leonard held a bloody blade while he watched Derek die? This was madness. Her own father had implicated Valerie in Derek’s murder.

“We have to protect Valerie, Charisse. God help us if she took the car out at midnight. The last thing we need is the sheriff and that bitch detective pawing around the car and finding evidence that links Valerie to the scene.”

“But she didn’t kill anyone, Ed.”

“It won’t matter. With the police, all they want is to place blame and close their cases. They’ll railroad Valerie and vilify her. And that’s why we can’t let them near our car. What if that crooked sheriff plants evidence?”

Ed Leonard made it seem as if he was looking out for Valerie’s best interest. But Valerie didn’t trust him.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

October 31st

4:50 p.m.

Thomas Shepherd led Detective Presley around the idling ambulance and through the automatic doors. The sick and injured filled every seat inside Kane Grove Memorial Hospital’s emergency room. A man clutched his stomach and doubled over as a concerned spouse stroked his back. A woman with a bloody towel wrapped around her hand screamed at the nurse and demanded someone attend to her injury.

Presley broke to the left and gestured for Thomas to follow. She stopped beside the welcome station.

“Detective Presley,” the gray-haired woman behind the desk said. “Haven’t seen you in months.”

“Good to see you, Rosa.” Presley made introductions. “We’re looking for Leland Trivett. His mother phoned the department and told us she brought Leland to the emergency room.”

The woman fixed her glasses on the end of her nose and typed at the keyboard. Rosa scribbled the location on a sticky note and handed it to Presley. On their way through the double doors, Presley flashed her badge at a security guard.

“What’s going on around here?” Presley asked, watching Thomas from the corner of her eye. “First, someone stabs Derek Jordan. Next, his best friend ends up in the emergency room. The attacks have to be related.”

Presley knocked on the wall and announced her presence. A second later, a woman tugged the curtain back.

“Mrs. Trivett? I’m Detective Presley.”

Presley introduced Thomas. After a nod, the sheriff’s eyes moved to the table. Leland rested on a cot, one leg bent at the knee, the other extended. His sneakers were off, and bandages snaked around his head and ribs. Blood crusted the boy’s broken nose.

“I want the maniac who did this caught and arrested,” Mrs. Trivett said. Her orange hair was mussed, and makeup ran from her eyes to her cheeks.

“Who attacked Leland?” Presley asked.

“That’s the problem. Leland won’t say. Perhaps you can talk sense into my son.”

Thomas pulled a chair beside Leland’s cot and sat. Leaning forward in a relaxed posture, his elbows propped on his knees, Thomas did his best to appear nonthreatening.

“How did this happen, Leland?”

The boy gave Thomas a defiant stare and said, “I fell climbing over the fence in the city