Read The Boy Who Killed Grant Parker for Free Online Page A

son.
    â€œHello,” the girl said, looking bored, not giving either of us her eyes for more than a second.
    â€œWell, hello, Delilah,” Dad said, beaming at her, and I cringed mentally as I waited for him to make some cripplingly embarrassing remark. “We’ve missed you at church.”
    An awkward silence followed while Delilah said nothing, Dad grinned expectantly, waiting for her to say something in return about how much she missed church, and the police chief’s jaw muscles bunched as he ground his teeth with restrained anger.
    â€œDelilah, meet my son, Luke,” Dad said finally to smother the horrible silence.
    â€œSure,” Delilah said. “The wildcat slayer. I know you.”
    Chief Perry seemed puzzled by this comment, and I bit down on an angry retort. She let the awkward silence drag on for a minute while I stewed.
    â€œLuke. That short for Lucas?” she asked me, her gaze now alert with sudden interest. Her eyes were the same color as her father’s and held the same amount of judgment.
    â€œNo, just Luke,” I said with a small shake of my head as I started to fumble the whole interaction by, one, forgetting to extend my hand to shake hers and, two, keeping my gaze on her longer than I should as I cataloged her features—long, wavy black hair, knockout smoky gray eyes, even if they did register only boredom when she looked at me. It was almost impossible to tell what kind of body she had since it was hidden beneath an oversize cardigan sweater and boyfriend-cut jeans. Her outfit wasn’t grunge enough to qualify her as a rebel. More like she just didn’t really give a crap.
    â€œYeah?” she asked. “Is that what people call you? ‘Just Luke’?”
    â€œJu—Luke. My name is Luke,” I said, now feeling like a complete idiot as she had me tripping over my own words while Dad and Chief Perry watched. Chief Perry’s expression communicated that he thought I was an idiot and, at the same time, a threat to his daughter’s virtue. I tried to keep my eyes from wandering to any part of Delilah’s anatomy other than her face.
    â€œLuke’s a senior,” Dad said, coming to the rescue as I found myself suddenly in the position of being less cool than a middle-aged preacher.
    â€œDelilah’s a senior, too,” Chief Perry said, “and she’s very focused on her studies.” This with a meaningful glance at me to make sure I wasn’t getting any funny ideas. I caught the roll of Delilah’s eyes, but her expression remained placid and indifferent.
    â€œI guess I’ll see you around, Just Luke,” Delilah said in a suggestive purr that raised Chief Perry’s eyebrow—and his ire.
    â€œYeah, that … uh,” I fumbled again, trying to be polite without showing too much interest in Chief Perry’s precious daughter. “I’ll see you around,” I finished lamely.
    *   *   *
    The party graduated from awkward to painful as Doris tried to inject life into the whole debacle by entertaining people with small talk and forced enthusiasm. Her smile was practically a weapon. When she targeted people with it, they scrambled to engage someone—anyone—else in conversation, or made a quick retreat to the bathroom or the buffet.
    I had taken up a stronghold in a corner with a cup of the sugary punch and kept rubbing my tongue around my mouth to scrub away the fuzzy feeling on my teeth.
    Two elderly women I recognized from Dad’s church sidled up to me and took up offensive positions on each side.
    â€œHello, Luke,” the shorter one said.
    â€œHello … uh.” I hesitated, not remembering either of their names.
    â€œI’m Miss Wingfield, and this is my sister, Miss Mitze,” the taller of the two said. She was regal in her tailored jacket and skirt. The silk flowers covering her hat in an uncertain heap were a major