ochisia | stiles stilinski [2]

chapter ten: fury

3 hours later, the headache in my skull having dissipated due to me shifting after the party, Scott, Stiles, and I were huddled around a dusty yearbook, all glaring at a picture of a pale boy on the pages.

"So, this kid's the real killer?" Noah raised his eyebrow skeptically, unable to fathom the fact that a young teenager could have taken all of these lives.

Scott and I nodded, grimacing at being firsthand at his violence while Stiles simply sighed, "yeah."

"No," Noah shook his head, refusing to even entertain the idea that we were pushing forward.

I mean yeah, we didn't have any evidence but still!

"Yes!" Stiles exclaimed exasperatedly, desperate for someone with the power to do something to believe him.

"No."

"Dad, come on! Everybody knows that the police look for ways to connect victims in a murder, okay? So, all he had to do is, like, look through their transcripts and figure out which class they all had in common."

"Yeah, except for the fact that the rave promoter, Kara, wasn't in Harris' class," Noah pointed out, making me slump as I played with the hem of my tank top that I changed into after I shifted back. My makeup was replaced with a light coat of mascara and a swipe of lip balm and my hair was freed from its hairstyle and half of it was wrapped in a bun while the other half hung down my shoulders.

Stiles didn't miss a beat, sarcastically arguing, "All right. Okay, you're right. Sorry. Then, I guess they dropped the charges against him?"

"No, you know what? They're not dropping the charges. But, that doesn't prove anything," I could see Noah's patience levels plummeting to the ground.

"H-"

Noah cut Stiles off, facing me and Scott, "Scott, Lexi, do you believe this?"

Stiles' jaw dropped, extremely offended while I nodded sheepishly, "It's really hard to explain how we know this, but you just gotta trust us. We know it's Matt."

Stiles nodded excitedly at my validation, pointing at me, "Yeah, he took Harris' car, okay? Look, he knew that if a cop found tire tracks at one of the murders, and that if enough of the victims were in Harris' class, that they'd arrest him."

Noah sighed, relenting to our logic, "All right, fine. I'll allow the remote possibility. But give me a motive. I mean, why would this kid want most of the 2006 swim team and its coach dead?"

"Isn't it obvious? Our swim team sucks! They haven't won in, like, six years!" At the blank stares all of us were giving him, Stiles sighed. "Okay, we don't have a motive yet. I mean, come on, does Harris?"

I watched Noah, his eyes trained on the picture of Matt in front of him as every gear in his brain turned.

"What do you want me to do?" He finally asked making us grin in victory.