Angelus・s.s・[2]

Chapter 17

"So this kid's a real killer?" Sheriff Stilinski questioned as him, Stiles, Scott and I looked at the yearbook. More specifically, Matt Daehler.

"Yeah." Stiles said.

"No." The Sheriff denied.

"Yes."

"No." He repeated firmly and Stiles jumped from his seat in his wheely chair.

"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." Stiles told his father.

"Yeah, except for the fact that the rave promoter Kara wasn't in Harris's class." He argued.

"All right, okay, you're right, sorry. Then I guess they dropped the charges against him?" Stiles questioned, obviously not sorry and trying to prove his point. The Sheriff raised an angry finger at Stiles.

"No, you know what? They're not dropping the charges. But that doesn't prove anything." The Sheriff refused, not letting Stiles get to him. Stiles made small and endearing hand gestures of frustration. His dad turned to Scott and I.

"Do you two believe this?"

"It's really hard to explain how we know this, but you just gotta trust us." Scott said.

"We know it's Matt." I added firmly.

"Yeah, he took Harris's 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's class, that they'd arrest him." Stiles reasoned.

"All right, fine. I'll allow the remote possibility," Stiles, Scott and I all looked at each other with a mixture of relief and happiness, "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?" I stared at Stiles uncertainty. I didn't think we had a motive yet? I thought. "Our swim team sucks!" Okay so we don't have a motive. "They haven't won in, like, six years." He trailed off, becoming quieter and quieter with each word. "Okay, we don't have a motive yet. I mean, come on, does Harris?" Stiles asked, posing a rational question which seemed to be enough for his dad.

"What do you want me to do?" He asked and Stiles breathed a sigh of relief.