Void (The Youngest, Book 3.B.)

Chapter 八 (B)

Agent McCall was heading toward the Evidence Room when he heard a loud noise behind him. He turned just in time to see Stiles stumbling in, moving to stand directly between him and the door, with none other than Kylie in his arms. The agent noted the frequent presence of his daughter with Stiles rather than her own family, a detail that made him frown.

"Thank God you're here," Stiles said, as though out of breath, standing between McCall and his target. "Thank the Lord," he added, a bit too loudly, before bumping lightly against the door.

McCall eyed him, already losing patience. "What do you want, Stiles?" he asked in a flat voice.

Stiles took a deep breath, scrambling for something plausible to say. "Uh, geez, I... I was thinking, you know, about the case." He gave a nervous laugh. "I figured I should clue you in on my thinking." He then decided to throw out whatever sounded halfway reasonable. "Here's my thinking: Barrow, right? He got the information about who to kill at the school. So maybe, just maybe, the person who gave him that information was actually someone at the school." He nodded quickly, a forced grin on his face. "And that's, uh, my thinking."

Agent McCall stared at Stiles with a raised eyebrow.

"You're right," he said, nodding with an air of dismissal.

Stiles blinked, clearly surprised. "I am?"

Kylie cocked her head, mirroring Stiles' confusion. "He is?"

"Yep," McCall replied, almost bored. "We started looking for links between Barrow, the faculty, and students last night."

"So, you already... you know all that?" Stiles said, his voice rising in pitch, hoping to delay the agent.

"Your dad did," McCall muttered, a trace of annoyance crossing his face. "His one, useful suggestion."

Kylie's expression darkened, her little fists clenching. "Well, he's doing a better job than you!" she huffed, glaring up at her father.

McCall ignored her as he moved to step around Stiles, reaching for his keycard. Before he could open the door, Stiles stepped in front of him again, blocking the way. Kylie, meanwhile, reached for the keycard in McCall's pockets, her eyes flashing with irritation.

Stiles' face hardened, his anger finally boiling over. He dropped his voice, but it was a low, controlled growl. "You know, this attitude you have towards my dad? You can dress it up with all the professional disapproval you want, but I know the real reason you don't like him."

McCall smirked, crossing his arms. "Is that so?"

"Yeah, because he knows something you don't want him to know," Stiles shot back, his voice unwavering. "And guess what?" He leaned in, eyes locked with McCall's, his tone dropping even lower. "I know it too."

The threat landed between them, hanging in the tense silence that followed. McCall's smug look faltered as he took a step back, his eyes narrowing as he regarded Stiles for a moment. After a sigh, he dropped his eyes to the floor, and spoke in a low, measured tone. "Go home, Stiles. There's a curfew, and take her home too." He then held out his hand. "Keycard, Kylie."

Kylie glared daggers at her father before reluctantly handing the card back. Stiles gave McCall one final glare, then turned, holding Kylie close to his chest as they walked toward the door.

McCall watched them leave, his face unreadable, until they disappeared through the front door. As soon as they were out of sight, he turned back, stepping inside the office. He narrowed his eyes as he noticed the Evidence Room door slightly ajar, suspicion settling heavily in his gut.

Right outside in the parking lot, Stiles leaned against his jeep, exhaustion written across his face, as Kylie sat beside him, swinging her legs casually. He rubbed his eyes, trying to push away the fatigue that had set in. Scott and Kira burst out of the service exit, sprinting towards them.