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Kennedy had read about people turning white from surprise but had never witnessed it firsthand until now. The blood drained from Noah’s face as quickly as her stomach fell in her abdominal cavity.
“Wait a minute.” She jumped up. This was all some sort of mistake. It had to be. “Noah can’t be the murderer. His mom already confessed.”
“My mom?” Noah looked so frail, Kennedy was afraid he might fall over on top of the detective. Maybe she shouldn’t have mentioned Vivian after all.
Detective Drisklay appeared unmoved. “You know as well as I do she only said that to buy her son a little more time. She had her fifteen minutes. Too bad the rest of Boston slept right through it.”
“So how do you know it wasn’t her?” Kennedy asked. She had never believed Vivian was the murderer either, not until now when the only other alternative was even more unsettling.
“Want the list?” Drisklay raised a single shoulder toward his ear in a sort of half shrug. “All right. First off, Vivian’s left-handed. Whoever clobbered the senator led with their right. And she obviously hadn’t seen the body. She couldn’t tell us how many times she hit him, what part of his office he’d been in, none of that. Like I said, she got her fifteen minutes, and then we had no choice but to let her go.”
“My dad’s dead?” Noah asked. Kennedy wished this was something like Woong’s night terrors, a horrific dream he wouldn’t even remember when he woke up in the morning.
Nick had his hand on Noah’s back. “I’m sorry, brother.”
“Hold on.” Kennedy wasn’t willing to let the detective get away with this. It was one thing to take in an innocent woman who was confessing a crime she didn’t commit in order to save her son. It was another thing altogether to take a boy who didn’t even know his father was dead and all of a sudden accuse him of the murder. Besides, it couldn’t have been Noah. He’d been out all night.
“He was at a bar.” The words poured out like water erupting out of a geyser. “He has an alibi. Tell him.” She nodded at Noah. “Tell him where you were.”
Noah didn’t say anything. Was he in shock? Grieved over the news of his dad?
Drisklay nudged him toward the elevator door. He was going to take him away without any proof, without any due process ...
“He was with his friend. Someone named Dayton.” Kennedy clutched at her own words, trying to sound bold. Why wasn’t Noah responding? “Tell him,” she coaxed. “Tell him that’s where you were all night.”
Noah shook his head. The movement was so slight, Kennedy could hardly perceive it.
“Tell him,” she urged again, but her words had lost their forcefulness. Their conviction.
She was met only by silence.
Drisklay prodded Noah forward. “He knows his rights. Come on, kid. The sooner I take you in, the sooner I can sleep off all this coffee.”
So that was it. Drisklay had arrested Noah. Carted him off like a common criminal. And Noah hadn’t said anything. Why not? Was he ashamed to name the Lucky Star as his alibi? Was he afraid his mom would be mad at him for hanging out with that Dayton guy, whoever he was? Was he worried he’d get in trouble for beating up that skinhead? How could that be worse than being arrested unjustly for killing your own dad?
The sun was already starting to rise over the sleepy apartment complexes. Drisklay had taken Noah away at least a quarter of an hour ago, and neither Kennedy nor Nick had budged.
“I can’t believe it.” Nick hung his head over his lap until his dreadlocks were just a few inches off the ground.
“Why didn’t he tell Drisklay the truth?”
Nick only repeated, “I can’t believe it.”
So that was it. Next would come the news. The media heyday. The swarms of locusts so ready to glut themselves on the Abernathy scandal. Trash journalists wanting to make a name for themselves. Websites typing out their clickbait headlines in the pre-dawn hours. It was probably all over Channel 2 already.
Gay teen accused of murdering his homophobic father.
She thought about emailing Ian, the journalist she’d met last year during her own series of media spotlights. But what would be the point? The one time she’d tried to go on air to tell the public her side of a controversial story, her best friend’s medical history had been exposed and dissected in the course of a three-minute live segment. No, the most she could hope for was to keep herself out of the limelight and hope the winds blew something even more scandalous across the Boston harbors, something that would make everyone forget Noah and the Abernathy ordeal before the weekend.
“Why don’t you think Noah told the detective about that club?” she asked. “Why wouldn’t he say anything?”
Nick frowned. “It could be he’s too embarrassed to admit he was at a gay bar, no matter what the reason.”
“But still, if it was that or get accused of killing your dad ...”
A shrug. “Maybe he was scared of getting in trouble for that fight.”
“Same thing,” Kennedy replied. “If the only other option is to go to jail for murder ...”
Nick sighed. “I suppose the other possibility is Noah wasn’t telling us the truth. He may not have been at the Lucky Star at all.”
“But why would he make that up? Why would he tell a story like that unless he ...” Kennedy stopped herself.
Nick held her gaze. “You know it’s possible that Noah’s guilty, don’t you?”
No. She couldn’t believe it. And how could Nick? Wasn’t he supposed to be Noah’s advocate? Wasn’t he supposed to stand by him during hard times? Isn’t that what being a youth pastor was all about?
“Trust me, I don’t like that idea any more than you do, but we still have to consider ...” His voice trailed off.
He could consider all he wanted. Kennedy wouldn’t. She knew Noah was innocent. He couldn’t even stomach beating someone up in a clear-cut case of self-defense. There was no way he would have killed his dad. It was impossible.
Unthinkable.
Nick checked the time on his phone. “Wow, it’s already six. Maybe we should head downstairs.”
Six in the morning? It felt like ten at night.
“Come on. You must be exhausted. Let’s find you something to eat, and then we can crash for a few hours.” Nick placed his hand on the small of Kennedy’s back as they headed to the elevator. She did her best to ignore his touch. She didn’t want his sympathy right now. She didn’t want his food or his hospitality, either.
The only thing she wanted was the chance to prove Noah’s innocence.