Kings of Linwood Academy - The Complete Box Set: A Dark High School Romance Series by Callie Rose (sight word books .TXT) 📕

As far as I know, River hasn’t picked up on anything new about Iris or the investigation into her death for a few days, and when he catches my eye, he shakes his head slightly.

Still no news, I guess. Damn.

They’re one of the last families to arrive, and Mom and I start circulating around the ballroom, offering to take empty glasses and fetching refills. I’m getting better at avoiding the wandering hands, although they still fucking piss me off. I have a pretty good mental list of the people to steer clear of from the last party, although when I have to squeeze past Judge Hollowell to reach a woman who’s impatiently tapping her empty wine glass, he surprises me by not copping a feel.

Huh. What do you know? Maybe he developed some manners in the past month.

Or maybe that’s giving him way too much credit.

I suppress an eye roll and work to keep my expression neutral as I head toward the bar with the empty glass. My mom worked hard to make this party a success, and I want to be here to support her.

Just as I deliver the wine refill to the bitchy woman, the doorbell chimes. I barely hear it over the rumble of conversation in the room, but Mom perks up a the sound too, so I know I didn’t imagine it. I give her a wave to let her know I’ve got it before heading toward the front of the house.

When I pull open the door, I frown.

It’s not more party guests.

It’s four cops.

At least, I’m assuming they’re all cops. Three of them are dressed in uniform, and the fourth is just wearing a suit and tie—but he’s the one who flashes a badge at me as they all step forward.

“Good evening.” He nods curtly. He has deep set eyes, a receding hairline, and a thin, straight nose. “I’m Detective Leland Dunagan, Fox Hill police department. May we come in?”

I step back automatically, forgetting for a second that this isn’t my house and I don’t have the authority to let them in. Not that I really have the authority to deny them either.

The four men stride into the house, turning toward the sound of voices emanating from the ballroom. I trail along after them, not sure what to do. Should I try to get ahead of them and warn Mr. Black they’re coming? It’s a little late for that. And what do they want?

The second they step into the ballroom, heads turn their way. Samuel notices them immediately and steps forward to meet them, Audrey right on his heels. From the corner, I can see Lincoln, River, Dax, and Chase all watching curiously.

“Excuse me, Officer. Can I help you?” Mr. Black’s voice is polite but cool. He obviously isn’t a fan of having his parties busted up by the cops.

“We’re here in regards to the death of Iris Lepiane,” the man in the suit—Detective Dunagan—says quietly.

My heart seems to skip several beats in my chest before thudding hard and fast like it’s trying to make up for lost time.

They’re here about Iris. About her murder. Does that mean their investigation has been progressing all this time, even though River didn’t learn about it from his dad?

And does that mean someone in this room is a suspect?

A wave of horror and disgust washes over me at that thought, but it’s drowned out almost immediately by relief.

It’s over. They found whoever it was. They’ll stop him.

Samuel’s eyebrows shoot up, and he shakes his head slightly, seeming confused. “You’re here about Ms. Lepiane’s death? I’m not sure what—”

“If you’ll step aside, Mr. Black,” the detective says, his voice almost an exact mirror of the other man’s. He’s being polite, but he’s not fucking around.

So much for the cops being in anybody’s pocket.

Samuel and Audrey share a look, and then he moves out of the way. He looks pissed, his face flushed with embarrassment and anger, and I’m sure the Fox Hill police department will be hearing about this.

Detective Dunagan raises a hand to gesture his men forward, and they cross the ballroom. The entire room has gone silent as everyone watches, and people melt out of their way as they cross the space.

The tall man in the suit finally comes to a stop near the bar… directly in front of my mom.

Time seems to slow down as I stare at the strange sight before me, my brain refusing to fully process it.

What is he doing?

What…?

Mom’s brown eyes widen, and she blinks up at him in surprise. “Excuse me?”

“Penelope Thomas,” he intones gravely. “You’re under arrest for the murder of Iris Lepiane.”

26

No.

No. No, no, no!

That’s not right. That’s not fucking possible.

I lurch forward, but before I can cross the room toward them, two of the officers step out from behind the detective and take my mom by the shoulders. One turns her around, and the other secures her hands behind her back in a pair of metal cuffs.

She doesn’t resist, seeming almost as shocked as I am. Her gaze darts around the room, and the second it lands on me, I see fear well up in her eyes. Not for herself though, I don’t think.

For me.

She blinks at me, opening her mouth like she might say something, but no words come out.

I can hardly hear anyway. Detective Dunagan is reading her her rights, and the people in the ballroom are whispering to each other under their breath, but the only sound I’m aware of is a low rushing in my ears.

This isn’t possible. There’s been some kind of huge mistake.

The two officers each grab one of my mom’s elbows as they turn for the door. As they all cross back toward it, Mom stumbles over nothing, too surprised and overwhelmed to even walk straight. Her face is pale white, like all the blood has drained from her body, and she’s still shaking her head.

The detective brushes by me, and the band of tension in my chest snaps.

I let