Stay With Me

Chapter Thirteen: Underground

Scott had followed Jackson to an underground rave, and was now watching as the teenager - clearly under his master's control, considering he wasn't speaking to anyone - bought tickets.

"Matt, Matt," whispered Scott, his eyes finding a boy he recognized among the line of people lined up to buy tickets. "How much are tickets?"

"Seventy-five," Matt informed Scott, also in a whisper. Scott stared at him in shock for a moment.

"Hey, can I borrow some money?" asked Scott.

"Yeah, how much?"

"Seventy-five?"

Matt shook his head at him and returned to waiting in line; Scott, despite having no money, got to the back of the line and watched the woman behind prison bars sell tickets for an underground rave.

"Next!" the woman behind the bars called; Jackson approached her. "How many?"

He raised a single finger in response as Scott watched intently.

She looked at him strangely, but held out her hand for the money, which Jackson gave her. She gave the money to one of the two guys behind her, who provided her with a ticket, which she gave to Jackson.

Obviously creeped out, she said, "Let's go, let's get out of here. Let's go!"

And just like that, the lift they were in was gone.

<<<<<<>>>>>>

"Oh, what the hell is this?" Sheriff Stilinski asked his son as he bit into a burger. 

"Veggie burger!" Stiles informed him.

"Stiles, I asked for a hamburger!" the sheriff reminded his son.

"Well, veggie is healthier," Stiles retorted, holding up his own salad. "We're being healthy."

The sheriff uncovered his "fries," only to discover that they were carrots and celery. He looked at Stiles. "Okay, why the hell are you trying to ruin my life?"

"I'm trying to extend your life, okay? Could you just eat it, please?" Stiles argued. "And tell me what you found!" he added.

"No! I'm not sharing confidential police work with a teenager!" Sheriff Stilinski told Stiles firmly. 

"Is that it, on the board behind you?" asked Stiles, glancing to the bulletin board behind his father.

"Don't look at that," the sheriff vainly instructed his son, as Stiles peered over his father's shoulders and around his head. "Avert your eyes - hey! - Avert your eyes!"

"Just - just - I see arrows - pointing to pictures - " Stiles didn't listen to his father.

"Okay, okay, stop!" cried the sheriff, giving up. "Stop, fine! I found something. The mechanic, the couple who were murdered, they all had something in common."

"All three?" Stiles asked.

"Yeah, you know what I always say," the sheriff told his son. "One's instance, two's coincidence..."

"Three's a pattern," finished Stiles.

"The mechanic, the husband, the wife," continued the sheriff. "All twenty-four."

"What about Mr. Lahey?" asked Stiles. "Isaac's dad isn't anywhere near twenty-four."

"Which made me think that either a) the murders weren't connected or b) the ages were a coincidence until I found this," Sheriff Stilinski got up from his seat. "Did you know that Isaac had an older brother named Camden?" He passed Stiles a file.