An ache formed in the pit of my stomach as I thought about the small cemetery in the woods behind Thornhill.
“There are a lot of rumors about the camps,” said Stephen, making no effort to hide his skepticism. “No one knows how many of them are true.”
“It’s not a rumor. I was there. We all were.” I crossed my arms and huddled deeper in Kyle’s jacket. “We saw the tests and the wolves they experimented on.”
Stephen’s gaze darted from me to Jason and back again. “You’re regs. How did—”
Jason cut him off. “It doesn’t matter how we got in or why. What matters is the tie between CutterBrown and what was happening at Thornhill. That’s the only reason you’re here and not lying in an unconscious heap for the police to find.”
“Jason.” Kyle’s voice held a sharp note of warning. Kyle was a werewolf, but so was Stephen. Force wouldn’t get us far.
Stephen’s eyes narrowed as he stared at Jason. With their blond hair and tuxedos, the two boys could have passed for brothers. If things had worked out differently—if Amy hadn’t died and she and Jason had miraculously stayed together—maybe they would have been. “What makes you think there’s a tie between CutterBrown and the camp or that I would even know about it if there was? I’m just an intern.”
“An intern whose father runs the company,” countered Jason. “Plus, there’s the fact that Mac saw the CBP logo inside the camp and you still haven’t explained what the hell you were doing in Flagler.”
Though he hid it quickly, it was impossible to miss the flash of annoyance that crossed Stephen’s face. “You really want to know why I was in Flagler?”
No, I corrected myself, not annoyance, anger.
“I was good at control. Great, even. No one but Amy knew I was infected. My parents, my friends, the girls I dated—none of them had a clue. And then Amy died. She was murdered by someone like me. After that, control got harder. A lot harder.” His face twisted, almost as though the admission had cost him. For Stephen—someone who had always excelled at everything—it probably had. “I was taking a class on the LS epidemic and how the government was managing it. We learned about this woman who had these new ideas about behavior modification and control. She had just been given a new camp to test her methods.”
“Sinclair.” The warden’s name was little more than a breath on my lips, but Stephen nodded.
“I thought maybe some of the things she was doing could help me. A few months after Amy’s death, when things hadn’t gotten any better, I went to Flagler to try and meet her. I figured I could say I was interested in her theories and methods, that I was writing a paper on them.”
“Sinclair would have eaten that up.” The class explained why that copy of Managing an Epidemic had been in Stephen’s bag.
Stephen shrugged. “Maybe, but I couldn’t get a meeting with her. I stayed for a couple of days and then headed back. That’s why I was in Flagler. It had nothing to do with CutterBrown or my father.” His eyes locked on each of us in turn. Bright and blue and earnest, they seemed to reinforce everything he had just said.
And it seemed plausible. More plausible than the idea that Stephen could have knowingly been embroiled in anything as awful as what had happened at Thornhill.
Jason reached into his jacket pocket and withdrew a silver flask—one I was certain he hadn’t had before the party. “Why should we trust anything you say?”
“I’ve known you your whole life,” countered Stephen. “You dated my kid sister for years. Why wouldn’t you trust me?”
“Oh, I don’t know.” Jason took a deep swig from the flask. “Maybe it has something to do with the mess you left in your father’s study. I hope your parents have a good cleaning service. All that blood is going to be a bitch to clean up.”
“Jason!” My voice sliced the air as Kyle walked over to Jason, unceremoniously plucked the flask from his hand, and hurled it into the trees.
Stephen didn’t flinch at Jason’s words. “That guy lunged at my grandfather and I attacked. What else was I supposed to do?” Maybe it was my imagination, but I thought I saw the muscles in Stephen’s arms twitch underneath his jacket.
Kyle returned to my side, standing a little closer, a little more in front of me, than he had a moment before.
Not my imagination, then.
I cleared my throat, trying to draw Stephen’s attention away from Jason. “When I asked the man in the study about your grandfather, he said, ‘He found out his son is a monster.’ What did he mean? What did your grandfather find out about your dad?”
“Nothing.” The word came out harsh and bitter. “He was probably talking about me. My grandfather didn’t know I was infected. When he saw what I did . . .”
His heart gave out.
It made sense. Sort of. Stephen did look an awful lot like his father. In the rush of an attack, in the dim light in the study, it would be possible to confuse them.
Stephen flexed his right hand and turned it over, studying his palm before glancing back at the house. “I keep expecting it to feel different. You think it would, after what I did.”
I wanted to tell Stephen who Ben was and what he had done to Amy—and I would—but now wasn’t the time. Knowing would help ease Stephen’s guilt, but it wasn’t an easy or quick conversation and we couldn’t afford to stay here much longer. More police would arrive. Soon. It was only a matter of time before they—and the Trackers—started searching the rest of the neighborhood. There was no time for lengthy explanations.
So instead of telling Stephen about Ben, I said, “We saw your father talking to a woman who had worked at Thornhill. They knew each other.” There was no need to tell him just how well. “She mentioned you. She said you had been behind some sort of breach at CBP. Why would she say that?” I tried to keep my voice neutral, but hints of distrust bled through. I wanted to believe Stephen’s story about Flagler, but it was hard when I had seen his father with the woman who had singled Serena out for torture, when they had been talking about him.
Stephen opened his mouth and then closed it. His shoulders slumped as he ran a hand over his face. It was a long moment before he spoke. “I knew my father was involved with something—something serious—but I didn’t know what. I didn’t know it had anything to do with Thornhill. I still don’t think it could—not if the things you said about that place are true.”