Chapter 10

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Despite his many questions, Pope did Delilah a favour and stayed quiet, ruminating over his thoughts and questions. What the heck would a girl like her want to do in a police station? 

He watched her from the corner of his eye, trying to study her expression without tripping over his own two feet. 

She looked rather calm, tucking a stray curl behind her ear, her eyes fixed ahead as if she wasn't really paying attention to what was happening around her. And there it was, the shadow that had disappeared during their time together and that suddenly made her seem older than she was. 

He stopped a few meters from the building, crossing his arms over his chest in an effort to look determined. "Before we go in, I want an explanation."

She nodded. His demand was perfectly reasonable, she realized as much. "The two guys that attacked John B and my uncle were found dead in the marsh, remember?"

He shivered, remembering their dark aura as they shot the door at John B's house. He could have sworn to feel the bullet graze his head, but perhaps it was paranoia.

"We need to see their bodies, or at least the autopsy reports. Something is wrong with this whole story," she whispered, distracted. "This won't stain your perfect record, I promise."

The fact that she had thought about his reputation and the scholarship he had on the line made him inexplicably happy. 

It wasn't smart to follow along whatever plans his friends had, but he was loyal, more loyal than was healthy for him. Besides, Delilah was a smart girl, she must have thought things through.

He took a deep breath, watching her face light up with gratitude. "Let's do this."

She pushed open the door to the reception and he followed close behind, wondering how good of a liar she was. God knew he couldn't lie, even if his life depended on it.

"Good day," she said politely. "My uncle was here this morning, I believe?"

The receptionist looked up, taking in the two teenagers before her. "Name, miss?

"My uncle is Ross Thompson."

"Ah!" The name produced the desired effect. "Mr. Thompson's niece. Yes, Mr. Thompson was here this morning."

"I believe he left his watch in the corridor by the sheriff's office, can we retrieve it?"

The lie rolled off her tongue smoothly, yet Pope couldn't help but notice how her fingers were twitching. He shifted awkwardly as the receptionist gave her permission and indicated the corridor in question. 

As soon as she had looked down again, Pope grabbed Delilah's hand and pulled her in another direction.

"I know where the autopsy room is," he explained, looking around.

She smirked. "My, my, my. Been here before?"

He rolled his eyes, his cheeks feeling warm. 

He'd been here before, yes, but for a school project. Not because he was a troublemaker, like JJ. Although he had bailed the blond boy out of jail before. 

Pope stopped in front of a door painted in blue and risked opening the door, throwing a circular look around the room.

"Clear," he whispered, only then letting go of her hand.

Delilah went straight for the examination table, pulling back the sheet which covered the bodies. She swallowed a gasp, stumbling backwards at the sight. 

Pope came closer, gently turning her shoulders so she would face him. "Don't watch a lot of horror movies?"

She swallowed, tearing her eyes away from the body. "I suppose I don't."

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐬𝐞〚𝚙𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚢𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚍 〛Where stories live. Discover now