21: Enough for a Warrant

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"Dad you've gotta believe us!" Stiles pleads, jabbing his index finger at Matt's face in the yearbook. "It's him."
The Sheriff sends a questioning glance Scott and I's way and we nod, agreeing with Stiles.

"It's true." I yawn. Stiles' shaved head bobbing up and down furiously in my peripheral vision as he begins to explain it in a way that our father would possibly consider.

"Matt wouldn't want the police to know it's him right, so he frames Harris." Stiles states, giving the Ex-Sheriff a hopeful look. The man shakes his head in exasperation, looking at us as if we're nuts, to which he's not wrong.

"Look guys, I know you want to help, but Mr. Harris has already been taken in for questioning and is still getting charged with the murders. And unless you have acual evidence, then there's nothing we can do."

"It's really hard to explain how we know this but you've just got to trust us. We know it's Matt." Scott urges, reminding me of Sam Winchester for a split second which makes me giggle a bit. They shoot me looks of confusion but I just shake my head, they should be used to this by now.

"He took Harris's car, okay? Look, he knew that if a cop found tire tracks at one of the murders and that enough of the victims were in Harris's class, that they'd arrest him!" Stiles explains further, huffing out a stressed sigh.

"What's his motive?"

"That's what we need to figure out."

***

"Dad what are you doing?" I question, tugging him back by his shirt sleeve before he can enter the building.

"This is important Katie, they'll let me in." He seems confident enough so I let go of him with a sigh, following the three boys into the police station. Just as he had said, they let him in without a second glance, making me roll my eyes at their lack of security; our father could be the murderer for all they know.

"Okay, Matt had to kill the mother himself right? So there's got to be footage of him in the hospital's security tape." Scott explains, all of us crowding around the desk as the oldest Stilinski gains access to the hospital footage.

"There he is!" I gasp, pointing to the dark haired boy on the corner of the screen.

"Are you sure that's him?" The ex-Sheriff questions, raising his eyebrow at me.

"Yes! That's him, I know it's him, he's got a very distinct cranium, you know?" Stiles mutters, getting a look of disdain from the other two Stilinski's in response.

"See if you can get a clear shot of his face." I suggest, turning my attention back to the screen. Our dad unpauses the tape but all we get is more of Matt's head.

"Damnit." I curse, recieving a stern look friom my father at the use of language.

"Wait, wait, stop the video!" Scott exclaims, jabbing his finger towards the screen where it shows Matt talking to a familiar nurse. Oh fuck.

"Scott call your mom." The werewolf nods hastily and fumbles to get his phone out of his pocket. "Now Scott!" I huff, watching the boy struggle. He quickly presses call and I wait impatiently as the dial tone sounds. Finally, after what feels like forever, Ms. McCall picks up.

"Do you remember talking to anyone suspicious the other day?" Scott questions, speaking at a fast pace.

"I talk to a lot of people in a day, why, what's going on Scott?" She replies, the standard worried mother tone lacing her words.

"I'm going to send you a picture and you need to tell me if you remember talking to him." Scott quickly sends his mom a picture of Matt and the nurse's reply is almost instant.

"Yeah, I remember stopping him because he was tracking mud down the hall. Why?" She asks again, the werewolf not bothering to elaberate.

"And you're sure that's the boy you stopped?" Our father interrogates, double checking with the nurse.

"Yes, I'm sure." She replies, confusion sounding clearly in her voice. Scott thanks his mom and promptly hangs up, turning back to the Sheriff.

"We found shoe prints along with the tire tracks at the trailer site." The oldest Stilinski starts.

"And if they match, that puts Matt at the scene of three murders; the trailer, the hospital, and the rave." Stiles cheers, the two of us fist-bumping excitedly.

"Actually, three." Our dad adds, causing me to raise my eyebrows in surprise and turn to the man. "A credit card receipt for an oil change was signed by Matt at the garage where the mechanic was killed." I nearly choke on my spit, sharing a wide eyed stare with my brother.

"When!?" Stiles questions, eyes nearly popping out in fear.

"A couple hours before you two got there." Our father responds softly.

"Alright," I begin, shaking myself out of my haze."If one's an incident, two's a coincidence, and three's a pattern, what's four?"

"Fours enough for a warrant."
Stiles and I cheer again, the werewolf joining in on our victory.

"Scott, call your mom back. If she can come down to the station and do an official ID we can get a search warrant." The Sheriff orders, Scott bobbing his head up and down as he pulls out his phone once again. Millennials am I right?
I follow Stiles to the front desk, a bad feeling engulfing me. As we turn the corner my stomach drops; the deputy at the desk is on the ground, bleeding from multiple gashes on their chest.

"Oh no..no, no, no." I mumble, shuffling closer to Stiles blurrily as tears fill my ocean blue eyes. He turns around to embrace me, instead coming face to face with the deputy's gun, being held by none other than mother fucking Matt. I turn around slowly, my breath caught in my throat as I meet eyes with a murderer.

"Hello Stilinski's." The boy smiles in a deranged manner, pointing the barrel of the gun towards our father's office with a raised brow. Stiles grabs my hand protectively and we guide Matt towards the office, opening the door with hesitance. Our father sees us and immediately​ drops what he's holding, putting his hands up to negotiate with the psychotic teen. I quickly scramble behind Scott as Matt shoves us inside, using the werewolf to my advantage as Stiles just stands beside him.

"Listen Matt, you don't want to do this. You don't need to kill anybody, just put the gun down." The Sheriff persuades calmly, less on edge now that his children were out of Matt's hold. The boy smirks maliciously, an evil gleam in his dead blue eyes.

"You don't know just how right you are."

Caged // Isaac LaheyWhere stories live. Discover now