“Absolutely,” Sara laughed. “And even if he does, Gren’s cool. He’d never act on it. Gren’s good at keeping secrets. His own, and other peoples.”
“I’m telling you guys. Xander Drew is the killer!” Grendel shouted. A small legion consisting of Sud, Tommy, Derek and a few others had gathered around him as he stood on one of the picnic tables outside school. “That guy from the cops practically said it!”
“No way,” Tommy muttered under his breath, his eyes widening as he thought of all the times he and Xander had talked in the halls, or passed him in the stalls, or let him copy his history notes.... The thought made him shudder. “There’s just no way.” He smoothed a hand through his spiked hair, frazzling it as he played with the settings on the camera that hung relaxed around his neck.
“Yeah,” echoed Sud, moving to fiddle with his own hair as Tommy had, only to remember that his head was, in fact, shaved. He quickly brought his hand down, hoping that nobody had noticed. “No way.”
“Anyway,” Grendel continued, giving Sud a look that completely disregarded his last comment. “The evidence is all there! He hated Jamie because Sara liked him. Everyone sees the way he chases her around, been doing it since he was six goddamn years old. He tried to kill Cathy and Mike because he’s angry at them for ditching him all the time. He sees what they’ve got and he knows he’s never going to have that with Sara. Plus, he’s the only one who knew where they would be that doesn’t have an alibi. I mean, think about it. I couldn’t accept it at first either but... no, just think about it and you’ll see it.”
“Yeah,” Derek piped up. He shrugged, his black plastic jacket making ruffling sounds as he did. “And while we’re at it, we’ll all think about how the hell that whiny little weakling could even punch somebody enough to hurt them, let alone do any damage.” He shrugged his shoulders again and walked away from Grendel.
“Yeah,” Tommy said, ignoring Grendel’s protests as he followed Derek’s lead and walked back toward the bathrooms.
“Yeah,” Sud said, mimicking Tommy’s exact movements.
Grendel just got down off of the table as the rest of the crowd dispersed. He sat back, a look of hatred and darkness in his eyes.
You’ll all pay for this, he thought. Nobody ignores Julian Grendel.
“Hey Dent,” Tim said as he slipped on his suede jacket. “Find anything connecting those kids yet?” He smiled at Dent. The man was dedicated, that was for certain. He’d never let go of a case like this, not until he brought in the killer.
“No. Not yet,” Dent admitted, not even looking up from the photos comparing Mike and Jamie’s wounds.
“You should go home. Get some rest,” he remarked, a faint sound of concern in his voice. “Fresh eyes would do that case better then tired ones.”
“Tim, there have been two teen attacks in the last two nights. Tonight could mean another one for this killer. This kid may not be as lucky as the last two.”
“Yeah, and it’s an hour before sunset,” Tim sighed, motioning toward the open window with his head.
Dent looked down at his watch in genuine astonishment. He had completely lost track of time. “Man oh man oh... wait.”
Tim’s eyes went up. “What?”
“I’d probably need another victim to prove this theory, but both Harris and Dawkins were adopted.”
“Come on, Carl,” Tim said, sighing as he shook his head at his friend. “So are thousands of kids all over America. You’re grasping at shadows. What about the Kennessy girl?”
“She could have been just an innocent, in the way of the killer’s attack.”
“I think I liked your gang theory a little better. Besides...” his voice trailed off for a minute as he looked out the window at the sun. “It is now fifty-five minutes to sunset. I don’t think you have time to run birth records on every kid in this town before then.”
Dent cursed under his breath, running his hand over his mouth as he watched the sun slowly set. He glared at the bright orange orb as if it had betrayed him horribly.
“It’s going to happen again, you know,” he said finally, in a defeated, barely audible tone.
“Yeah,” Tim reciprocated, pulling up a chair next to him. “I know.”
“Dammit!” Xander yelled as Mike won his third straight game of air hockey. Xander had won the first game, but once Mike had gotten a handle on playing in the wheelchair, there was no hope. Goal after goal -- Mike had just hammered them in without remorse.
“I guess that means I win... doesn’t it?” Mike gloated, getting as much enjoyment out of the moment as he possibly could.
“Get up out of that chair. You’ve gotta be milking it or something.”
They all laughed. Cathy came over and gave Mike a short kiss, and there was an awkward pause between Xander and Sara.
“Ugh,” Xander let out a little grunt.
“What is it?” Cathy asked, coming to his side.
“Um...” he paused for a second, putting pressure on his right side. “It’s nothing. Really, it happened last night too. It’s just a lot of pain in my right side.”
Mike’s eyes widened momentarily. Could it actually be some kind of... sixth sense humans had to danger? he thought, his mind going a mile a minute. Was it possible that the killer was close by, in the building even.... no. God no, of course it wasn’t. He laughed at himself as he took Cathy in his arms again. Coral Beach was a big enough place that whoever this sicko was he didn’t need to come looking for his targets.
“Come on,” Sara chimed. “We have to call our parents if we’re
