Blood Trail Read Free

like it was cold. I saw a couple of fire department guys trying to help the cops push people back. What scared me the most—
    Calm. Stay calm.
    The worst thing was the way the cops looked as panicky as I was trying not to feel. Cops shouldn’t look that way.
    â€œWhat happened?” I asked the first person I came to, a neighbor lady. She just stared with the funniest look, like she was made of wood, like she couldn’t hear me. I pushed past her into the crowd, still hoping—I don’t know what I was hoping. That it wasn’t Aaron, I guess. That some old guy had snuck into his house to throw a heart attack or something.
    â€œWhat happened?” I asked again.
    A few heads turned, but nobody answered. For a big crowd, it was so quiet it was weird. All I heard was somebody crying somewhere behind me, and off to the side some guy saying, “The little kids shouldn’t see. They ought to get them out of here.”
    I saw the state trooper come out of the house with his face fish-belly pale.
    I grabbed the old lawn-mower guy by the arm. “What happened ?”
    He turned and glared at me, but he said, “Kid’s dead. Stabbed to death.”
    â€œWhat? What kid?” My heart was pounding so hard it hurt.
    The old guy turned away without answering, but I already knew the answer.
    No. It couldn’t be. It had to be some other kid. For some reason, somebody had stabbed Aardy, or Nathan—
    But no, I could see Nathan standing in the doorway with his sister hanging onto him sideways, her face hidden behind his back. He acted like he barely knew she was there. His arms hung straight down at his sides. Even at that distance, I could see how white his narrow face was. And I could see dark stains on his T-shirt, like he’d been painting or something.
    But it couldn’t be Aaron who was dead. It had to be somebody else. Some neighbor kid. Please.
    Heads turned as a Volvo swerved into the driveway and stopped. Aaron’s dad got out and ran toward the house, still in his grocer’s apron, with his sleeves rolled up. He must have been at the store when he got the call. The state trooper met him in front of the door.
    The crowd was so quiet, I could hear almost every word.
    â€œâ€¦ according to your daughter, Cecily, the body is that of your stepson Aaron. I’m sorry, sir.”
    â€œHe’s dead ?” Mr. Gingrich’s voice cracked like glass.
    Aardy must not have realized her dad was there until she heard his voice. Then she let go of Nathan and darted out the door to her father. One glimpse of her face, and I had to close my eyes.
    â€œYes, sir, he is dead,” said the police officer. “I’m sorry—”
    â€œNo. That can’t be.” Mr. Gingrich’s voice. I looked, and saw him patting Aardy’s shoulders as she hugged the rough cloth of his apron, but he barely seemed to know what he was doing. “Nathan—” Mr. Gingrich reached toward Nathan, who was standing a few feet away from him inside the front door. But Nathan didn’t look like he’d heard.
    The trooper edged over to stand between Mr. Gingrich and the door. “If you’ll wait in the cruiser—”
    Mr. Gingrich shook his head. “There’s some kind of mistake.” Pulling away from Aardy, he tried to head into the house. “Let me see him. Let me see.”
    I heard Aardy sobbing. I couldn’t look at her.
    â€œWe advise against it, sir. We will ask you to identify his clothing—”
    â€œLet me see my son!”
    Someone pulled at my elbow. I turned. It was Mom. She didn’t say anything, just motioned with her head for me to follow her, and I did. I couldn’t handle watching Mr. Gingrich anymore.
    A couple of cops were stretching yellow plastic ribbon between the crowd and the house, edging people back, back. Mom led me out of there. At the edge of the crowd, Jamy stood hugging herself and shaking. Her