Under the Altswood Sky (The Altswood Saga #2)

Chapter 6 - Conspiracy

Chapter 6 - Conspiracy

"Luca, I am honestly becoming concerned with the amount of trips you're making to the police station."

I threw my hands up, bouncing the entire couch beneath me. "Since you're the police chief and I'm your daughter, it makes perfect sense to me."

Dad massaged the ridge of his nose, trying to smooth over the stress that was permanently setting his face into a scowl. It was a difficult task amidst the chaos in the station, and I was sure he was more likely to end up pulling a muscle.

"Okay, first of all," he said, slouching in the chair to get to my eye-level, "if you were dropping by to bring me takeout or something, I wouldn't be complaining. However, you seem to be dropping by because you keep getting involved in bad things."

"Oh, oh, I'm sorry," I exclaimed, jerking back in disbelief. "Should I have just let Steven and Zane stab each other in the hearts?"

"No," Dad grimaced, "that's not what I meant—"

"I'm not getting involved in hard drugs," I continued, now that he had gotten me started, "I'm not trespassing, or getting caught frolicking naked on the school grounds after hours. I—" I stabbed my finger into the armrest of the couch, "—saved a double murder attempt!"

At that, Dad stopped trying to interrupt and raised his eyebrows instead. The dubious expression didn't last long. An officer hailed for his attention at a nearby desk and he stood to see what she needed. 

They muttered exchanges back and forth, most of it getting lost in the general bustle of the police station before it could reach my listening ears. I was pretty good at eavesdropping, but I wasn't superhuman.

Releasing a long exhale, I leaned on my fist, idly searching the sea of witnesses who were congregated in the waiting area. They waited to be summoned one-by-one, fidgeting and pacing. Though plenty were familiar, none of the faces were the ones I was looking for. I hadn't seen Gabriel, Annabelle, or Jules since Dad hauled me away at the town centre, pulling out his parent card.

"I'm going to get some water," I called, rising from the couch.

Dad turned around sharply, wrapping up his debrief with the officer. "Sit, Luca."

Most of the audience members from the production were overflowing from the building, and Dad still thought we could have a civil conversation in this environment.

"Look, you don't seem to believe me when I say that this was foul play—"

Dad shook his head. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves."

"Ahead of ourselves?" I repeated, my volume pitching suddenly to resemble a scream. Heads were turning in my direction, but I hardly noticed. "I saw the entire table of props, Dad, all the knives were plastic. Explain to me how someone could have accidentally swapped them with identical real ones!"

Dad had resorted to massaging the ridge of his nose again. "Okay, sweetheart," he muttered, taking me by the arm. "Time out."

I was so frazzled that I hardly protested, simply following Dad as he led me to the back of the station, unlocking the door for the board room.

"Just relax in here," he said. "I have a few more statements to take, then we'll go home."

I threw myself at a chair, brooding. "Fine."

He shut the door.

"Just wait in here," I mimicked sourly, when I was sure he had left. "We can completely afford to sit around while people drop dead."