Shadowed Seats: (Oliana Mercer series Book 1)

Rumors and Reality

That following Monday, Dad, and Mom packed their duffle bags and loaded up the truck. Even though I wanted to be treated like a young woman getting ready to step into the world, I knew Dad wasn't going to leave out of the driveway without giving me a lecture.

"No social media posts about being home alone. There are crazy people watching everything you do."

"Yes, Dad."

"If it gets too hot in the house, use the air conditioner. No open windows."

"Yes, Dad."

"If you need help—"

"Go to the neighbors. Yes, Dad. I'll be okay."

"Oli, be respectful. Your dad's trying to help." Mom tossed her cigarette on the ground and stepped on it.

Fanning the smoke, I squinted at the smoldering cigarette and watched as ashes dropped into the dents along the broken concrete. "Is that your last one?"

"I'm hoping." Mom climbed into the truck. "At least I'm not drinking." She shut the door and waved goodbye.

Dad's engine roared to life. He put his head out the window and said, "Better hurry and get to school."

"I've been exempted from my history and algebra exams. I don't have to be in until later this morning."

Dad winked at me, backed out of the driveway and seconds later, they were on their way to a cabin in Colorado Springs.

As I entered the house, I pulled out my phone and checked our school's website. An online memorial with pictures of Devin covered the front page. Just below it was information for grief counseling for students.

After everyone had left, I collapsed on my bed and closed my eyes. Before long, I was soothed to sleep by the quietness in the house.

Pounding.

I opened my eyes, listening for the sound.

More pounding rattled the knocker on the front door.

I jumped out of bed, my heart racing as I ran to see who was at the door. James. Why is he here?

I took the chain off the door, opened it and stumbled backward as James pushed his way inside. Sweat dripped off his chapped lips and clung to an unruly hair from his goatee.

"What the hell, James," I said.

James leaned against the door, closed it and slid to the floor. "I'm in trouble."

"Why didn't you go home?"

"This is the last place they'd look for me? Let me hang out here for a sec."

"Who's they?"

"The cops. They think I killed Devin."

"Did you?"

"No."

"You weren't happy that she was pregnant."

"Why should I be. Doesn't mean I killed her. Some even think it was a suicide."

"No way," I said.

"I need your help."

Thoughts whipped in my head as I decided if I should believe anything that came out of James's mouth.

"I think you should go." I looked out the window. "My parents will be back home any second."

James looked at me, his face twisted in rage. He yanked on my arm, pulling me close. "I didn't kill Devin. Check with Austin. He was the last one seen with her."