In which two complete opposite personalities are drawn together. To Wednesdays surprise, she would have never thought about falling for a boy that had almost nothing in common with her. Lucas Thorpe would have never guessed that Wednesday Addams wou...
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"HE'S ALIVE" Sheriff Galpin's voice cut through the air as he slid into the booth, his face grim. "Barely. I'll take you back after I get your statement."
"We already gave it to your deputy" Wednesday responded sharply, her eyes not meeting his. "Blue Cadillac. No license plates."
"Yeah, I know," Galpin muttered, pulling a recording device from his jacket pocket. "I want a better one."
His persistence was starting to grate. "What were you two doing in the back of the Mayor's SUV?" he asked, his tone turning interrogative, his gaze narrowing.
I leaned back, trying to stay calm. "We just happened to see him exiting the Gates mansion" I said, not entirely sure I believed the words myself.
"The Gates mansion. What the hell were you doing there?" He shot back immediately, eyes flashing suspicion.
"House hunting" i gave him a fake smile as the Sheriff rolled his eyes.
"I overheard the voicemail he left you" the Sheriff continued, his voice lowering, and for the first time, his manner seemed less accusatory. "I was intrigued. Lucas didn't know. I brought him here thinking we were doing something else."
I glanced at Wednesday. She didn't meet my eyes, but I caught the faintest hint of discomfort in her expression.
"Back when the Mayor was sheriff" Galpin says, leaning in slightly as if to share an old secret, "he used to have a lot of wild theories on cases that he couldn't solve. We'd sit back there, dissecting them over pie. Most of the time, they went nowhere." He gestured to the booth behind us, a spot I now couldn't imagine sitting in.
I felt the weight of his words. "Call me old-fashioned" Galpin muttered, eyes darkening. "But when someone's run over on their way to give police key information, it usually means they were onto something. And all signs point to the Gates family and that house."
I could feel Wednesday tense next to me, her voice steady but full of purpose. "The Gates family..." She trailed off, then added, "How they're all dead. Every last one of them. And I don't believe in ghosts."
I stood up suddenly, unable to sit still. My heart was racing. "Well, then maybe you should, because something is not right."
The words hung in the air like an unresolved chord. I didn't wait for his response. Turning on my heel, I made my way toward the door, needing to get away, to think. I didn't hear Wednesday's footsteps until she caught up beside me.
"Why?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
I turned to face her, frowning, heart in my throat. "What do you mean, why?"
