Call Me Rumpel

Chapter Twenty-nine

"I asked you what this is," he repeats.

I stare at the board, unable to formulate an excuse, not even a half-baked 'it's a school project' explanation. Since I'd created it, I've added a note about the shed fire and put big red crosses through Sean's and William's names, plus made a note about who we're assigned to investigate. I've yet to add the information about Rumpel and the password, or Michael's shifty attitude this afternoon.

Dad glowers at me, a vein throbbing in his temple. "Well?"

I swallow and decide to go with the truth. "I'm trying to figure out who killed Vincent Wu."

"You're trying to..." He tastes the words before deciding he doesn't like them. "What is wrong with you?"

My hackles are instantly up at his tone. What is wrong with me? That's all I've heard lately. When he caught me crying over Mum leaving, I was dubbed immature for being upset. When Fluffyfangs had to be put down, I was too sentimental.

"I thought you'd be happy I'm being proactive about the situation. Unless you want me to be hauled into the police station again?"

"Don't take that tone with me!"

"Well? It's not like I'm doing anything wrong."

He turns to the board, ripping off the picture I'd printed of a slightly younger Vincent. With absolutely no surprise whatsoever, he was absent during school pictures the last two years, so I had to settle for taking it from our year nine yearbook. I hadn't wanted to stare at his pimply face, but I hadn't been getting anywhere and thought it might spark some answers.

Dad's hand shakes as he holds it. "Lingyun's son is dead. Dead."

'Well, duh,' comes to mind, but I don't say it. Dad's face is all blotchy and red, and his eyes are... tearing up?

"Do you have any idea what that man has been through already? He has enough on his plate, what with his wife leaving, his son getting himself killed, and his daughter..." He walks over to my desk chair and sinks onto it, burying his head in his hands. "That poor family."

Vincent's mother left them? I mean, I haven't seen her around lately, but I thought that's who he inherited his proclivity to wag school from. I'd assumed she was there in the background like my own, helping his father's business on the sidelines without credit.

"I didn't know Mrs Wu left."

He takes in a deep breath, composing himself, and stands. "Yes, well, now you do, and I don't want you causing any more trouble for them. Leave whatever this nonsense is to the police. Don't dredge up the past and don't go annoying the Wu girl. She's troubled enough as it is."

"Courtney? But I have to read—"

"No. I mean it; leave the Wu family to themselves." He rips the photo, scattering tiny shreds of paper across my otherwise clean carpet.

He storms from the room, not realising he's given me more motivation to continue with my investigation. I wait until I hear him grumbling downstairs about dinner before I sit and boot up my laptop.

Before anyone can interrupt me again, I type in the account's email and Quinn's name. Immediately, I'm rejected from entering the site.

I'm not ready to give up yet, though, not with Dad's words echoing in my mind: Courtney is troubled. I've completely overlooked the possibility Courtney could have hurt her brother. I mean, I highly doubt it; the way she spoke about her brother was with undeniable love and admiration. She also wasn't at the party, at least not that I was aware of. Even so, Quinn was the most obvious suspect, and that hasn't exactly worked out.