Her uncle was there, leaning against the side of one of his police department vehicles with his arms crossed in front of his chest. He spotted her immediately, and she recognized the look on his face. He was fuming.
“Wait here,” she told Jay, deciding she might as well do this on her own. No point dragging him into this too.
Her uncle’s stance didn’t ease, even as she came nearer, closing the gap between them. If anything, he looked sterner. Angrier. Violet’s insides felt like Jell-O the closer she got to him.
“When were you planning to tell me?” He stood up, his actions tense and jerky as he yanked open the back door of the cruiser, telling her without words to get inside.
She frowned at him, but followed his lead. “Soon,” she said as she slid inside the cool interior of the police car. She would have shivered even if the plastic seat wasn’t cold from the AC. Her uncle’s glower was downright frosty.
He got in the front seat, and Violet did her best to ignore the strange looks she was getting from the other students as they walked past. She was sitting in the back of a police car, after all. No doubt they were thinking she was in some sort of trouble—at least those who didn’t realize right away it was her uncle behind the wheel.
She kept her gaze averted, not sure where she should look since she didn’t want to look at her uncle either.
“You saw Grady after I expressly told you not to get involved,” Uncle Stephen accused. There was a pause and she knew he was waiting for her to look up. Instead, she concentrated on her bare fingernails, which were short and ragged, in desperate need of a manicure, she thought idly.
Guilt flushed her cheeks. “Actually, you didn’t,” she said, feeling like she was on shaky ground now. She glanced up nervously to see him watching her from the rearview mirror.
“Didn’t what, Vi?” he snapped, his voice not sounding nearly as unsure as hers had.
“Didn’t say not to get involved,” she answered, trying to be bolder now. “You didn’t really say anything.” She watched as his face turned an unnatural shade of red.
She waited for him to say something. To argue that she was wrong, and insist that he had told her to mind her own business. But he couldn’t because he hadn’t. She saw the moment he realized the truth as his shoulders fell and he sighed, a long, deflated sound.
For a long time there were no other sounds, no words between them. And then he turned around in his seat, no longer staring at her from the mirror.
When he faced her, she could see the shadowed stubble along his jaw and the even darker shadows beneath his eyes. “I might not have said it, but I should have.” His voice was softer now, less accusatory and more thoughtful. “I didn’t want you to see Grady, but not because I think he’s a killer. I don’t. At least not anymore. The evidence is back, and we won’t be charging him. There’s nothing that shows he was there the day of the murder. Even his alibi checks out.
“The real truth is, it’s hard for me to stand by and watch you go through this again and again. It can’t be good for you, seeing the things you see. Being around bodies and killers.” He shook his head. “What I should have said that night is that I didn’t want you to get involved any more than you already are because I’m worried about you. I know I can’t protect you, Vi, but it doesn’t stop me from wanting to.”
Violet choked on the lump that formed in her throat. She hated how much she’d already put her family through by being different from everyone else. And she hated even more that it wasn’t going to end anytime soon. “I’m okay, Uncle Stephen. I can handle it.” It was true. She’d realized that much, at least, over the past months . . . the past year. “I want to help. I only went to see him, to see if . . . you know, if he was the one you were looking for.”
“I know,” he said, nodding, and looking worn-down. “Sara called me this morning; she said you told her he didn’t do it. It was just one more reason to believe the evidence. Dammit, Vi. When did you get so grown up? When did you stop wearing princess dresses and begging me for piggyback rides? When did you stop needing me to look out for you?”
Violet grimaced. “Okay, one . . . I don’t think I ever wore princess dresses, even when I was Cassidy’s age, but I’ll cop to the piggyback rides. And two . . .” Her eyes stung as she blinked hard against the tears building behind her eyes. “You know I’ll always need you to look out for me.” She let out a watery laugh. “I mean, you have met me, right? I’m sort of a danger magnet.”
She heard a sniffle from the front seat, and then her uncle was getting out of the car and opening her door. “Come here, you,” he said, and he was reaching for her before she could even get out on her own. “I really just want you to be happy. I want everything to be rainbows and sparkles for you, Vi.”
Violet grinned against his chest, where he had her wrapped in one of his famous bear hugs. She hoped she never outgrew his silly sayings. “I know, Uncle Stephen. I’m just not that girl, I guess.”
He shrugged, not letting her go right away. “Doesn’t mean I can’t try, does it?”
She was about to tell him that she loved how hard he tried. That, or that she couldn’t breathe, when she heard Jay, his voice finding its way inside the wall of arms her uncle had her buried in. “Does this mean everyone’s all good? There’s been a truce?”