Page 30 of Oliver

Now, as I stand under the cool umbrella of a tree and watch the house before me, I concede, maybe I should have left it alone because the further into this rabbit hole I go, the more I wish I hadn’t discovered a goddamn thing.

“Ollie?” Mom says and I pass the unmarked car in the drive before following her into the house.

Beyond stands two detectives, one of whom has a ridiculous walrus mustache that makes him look like a fucking blubbery seal. Who is this douche?

The other detective, a woman, eyes me coolly and says, “You must be Oliver. I’m detective Stewart and this is Masters.”

When I don’t comment, her eyes narrow. Beside me, Mom waves her arm and says quietly, “Please. Sit.”

Once we’re comfortable or as comfortable as we’re going to be, Mom runs her hands down her jeans, and I eye her with pity. Does she regret her life now that she knows about Dad?

Maeve is convinced that Mom knew long before this, but I have my doubts. While I do believe she’s weak for staying with the bastard knowing about his infidelities, I have a hard time wrapping my brain around her looking the other way while he killed people.

I assume in Maeve’s hysteria, she made this shit up in her head. It’s not like we’ve had a heart to heart to discuss it, anyway. I’ve been avoiding her and the questions in her eyes because I can’t give her the answers.

I wanted a little more time to figure this shit out, but she blew that out of the water when she turned Dad in. It’s too late to worry about it now, though.

“Okay, Oliver,” Stewart says, and I nod. She’s the one I have to worry about because the dude with the ‘stache doesn't know his ass from a hole in the ground but this one, she’s sharp.

If I don't play it carefully, she’ll look into my business and that’s the last thing I need.

“I know this is a difficult time for you, what with your—“

“It’s fine,” I mutter, and she searches my eyes. That’s right. There’s no love lost between me and my old man.

With a small nod, she glances at Mom and says, “We’ve done extensive questioning with your father. There’s a matter we need to discuss with you.”

“Okay.” For reasons I refuse to analyze, I don’t want to give Penny away, so I don’t let on that I know why they’re here.

“What?” Mom whispers and I eye her sideways. Her lips are blue and she’s rocking ever so slightly in her seat.

I wish Dad hadn’t done this for her sake but my choices in this were none and clearly the fucker doesn’t care about his wife.

“Here’s the thing,” Stewart says, and I grit my teeth. Here it comes.

“He’s denied killing the newest victim, Dixie Loughlin.”

“Oh?” Mom echoes, her confusion evident. But her wide eyes turn to round orbs of horror when Stewart says, “He’s implicated you, Oliver.”

“Ollie?” Mom gasps, shaking her head. Her hair whips against my cheek and I ease away.

When Stewart turns to me with her keen stare, I splay my hands and say, “That’s ridiculous. I didn’t kill her or anyone else.”

“I understand, but we need to cover all of our bases for the DA to continue with the charges. Can you tell us where you were the night she was murdered?”

“That was months ago,” I mutter even though I know exactly when it was. Still, it would look completely suspicious if I blurted it out because it would mean I was paying attention.

“True. But if you could try to think back, that would be good,” she says and I sigh, grabbing the bridge of my nose.

I do have a headache brewing but this is for effect. If I’m disturbed, it increases my credibility as an innocent bystander.

“Okay, when was it?” I ask.

After she spouts off the date, I make a show of checking my social media. Luckily, some fool took a picture of us when we entered the building for prom, because I don’t have to search for something to prove my whereabouts.

If I wanted to get technical, Iwasat the scene of Dixie’s death, but I'm not about to admit that we were responsible for the anonymous call they received.

“This is ridiculous,” Mom says, and I wince at the shrill sound before turning my phone to the detective and saying, “Here. I guess that was the night of prom.”

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