He was trapped in the backseat of a car, pinned in place by a seat belt as they tumbled and rolled. Something struck his face, and even in the chaos he could feel the warm trickle of blood on his skin. He squeezed his eyes shut, but he could still feel the motion, every jolt sending pain through his body and fear through his soul. Metal twisted in on itself, twisted in on him, and he felt it tear into him.
He screamed, but there was no one to hear him.
The car stopped rolling, but still he was stuck. The seat belt had slipped from his chest to his neck and was strangling him as it held him to the roof of an upturned car. No matter how he wiggled or writhed, he couldn't escape. When he looked around for help, all he saw around him were children's bodies, already dead and hanging limp on either side of him. He couldn't stop the world from fading away, from turning to black, but still he fought against it. He kicked and he screamed and he fought...
And he woke up.
Liam shot straight up in bed, his breath coming in ragged gasps. His skin was wet and clammy with sweat, and he was trembling as his heart raced forward at a million miles an hour.
He was awake, he reminded himself. He was safe now. It had only been a dream.
Still, his hands seemed to shake.
He ran a hand through his hair and got out of bed. It was still dark out, and far earlier than he needed to be awake, but he didn't think there was any chance of him going back to sleep that night. Instead he set a pot of coffee to brew and turned on the TV. He could use a distraction.
Unfortunately, the TV brought no distraction. The late night news crew was filling airspace by talking about the very case that Liam was trying to forget about. They speculated wildly, and with any other case Liam would have thought them a mockery of proper police work. With this case, he couldn't blame them. Things just didn't add up, and when there were dead kids involved you couldn't just let that be. He knew it would only worsen his preoccupation with the case, but he left the channel running. It was somehow reassuring to know that someone else was as concerned about the case as he was. He forgot about the coffee and let it grow cold as he listened to the same fact be run over and over again with new arguments and guesses.
As the clock turned over to five in the morning, the crew shifted over to the morning news. As they spouted out meaningless facts about the weather, Liam trekked apart his empty apartment to grab his laptop. Now that he had started thinking about the case, he knew he wouldn't be able to stop.
His home laptop was old and slow, and it struggled to load any pages with pictures, but it was usually enough for what he needed at home. It matched the rest of his apartment in it's age and dysfunction, yet another relic of a man whose motivations laid with his job instead of with his personal life.
There were a lot of facts that didn't add up to Liam, but one of the most glaring was the motive. Shepherd had only ever been described in glowing terms, as a parent so good that there was no need for rose colored glasses. Nine year old kids could be tough, and someone unfamiliar with kids might have been driven to the edge with so many of them in the car. He supposed that Tanner could have been especially difficult that day, but he really didn't know enough about ADHD or Tanner to know how bad his behavior could have been. He wished he had another source to find out what the circumstances in the car had been like. Someone who was used to being around Tanner and his friends for more than a few minutes at a time.
He pulled up the article about Mr. Shepherd being a great dad. he read it yet again.
It was then that he noticed the quote, in the bottom corner of the page. It was from someone named Tracie Jefferson and listed the behavioral virtues of Shepard's son. Liam couldn't care less about the content of a quote meant for a puff piece, but the name was unfamiliar to him. After his investigation into the crash, he thought he would have known everyone involved with the family.
Curious, he plugged the name into the search bar.
The top result was the staff page of a local elementary school, and it hit Liam then what he had stumbled upon. He had no doubt that Tracie Jefferson had been Tanner's teacher, a person who would have known the boy and the extent of his behavioral problems. She was the answer to all of Liam's questions, if only he could just talk to her.
He took a deep breath and reminded himself of what had happened the last time he had taken police matters into his own hands. He knew he needed to let this go.
That didn't stop him from digging a bit deeper. With a few more web searches he confirmed that Tracie Jefferson taught fourth grade at the same school Tanner would have been zoned for. He found the address for the school and scribbled it down on a scratch piece of paper, telling himself all the while that he wasn't going to do anything with it. He was just an interested citizen, looking into a case.
In the other room, his phone blared an alarm. He shut the computer- work was far more important.
The new case he was assigned at work was boring and cursory- a bus accident near city center that would require more paperwork than police work. It left plenty of space in his mind to focus on the Whitmore case. He just couldn't let it go. Not with so many open questions still hanging in the air.
When he went on his lunch break, he looked up the address of the school. It was only a couple of blocks away from the police station, easily within walking distance. He glanced around the office to see if anyone was looking. It wouldn't hurt anything if he went to check out the school, and nobody would have to know. He didn't even need to talk to the teacher. He just wanted to get a feel for the school, in case the environment had rubbed off on Tanner. Maybe, if the students were uncontrollable and obnoxious, it had rubbed off on Tanner. It would be something concrete to support the official version of what had happened, and Liam told himself that it would be enough to let him put the case away for good.
He wasn't really doing anything wrong, but he still did his best to be discrete. He kept his pace slow and his eyes focused on the door, adopting the same kind of easy smile he would if he was just going to grab some lunch.
He was almost to the door when Kurt appeared through one of the nearby doors, carrying a big stack of papers in his arms.
"Oh, hey Liam," Kurt greeted with a nod. "Headed somewhere?"
"Yes," Liam said. He focused on keeping his voice light and believable. He had seen Kurt's skill in the interrogation room before, and he knew he couldn't afford to show any signs of lying. "I left my lunch at home, so I was going to grab some fast food down the street."
"Cool," Kurt nodded. "I just got the files for the bus crash, so we'll have something to do when you get back."
"Looking forward to it," Liam said as a parting gesture.
"No you're not," Kurt contradicted, but he did so as he was walking away. Liam let out a deep breath. He had fooled Kurt, at least for now.
The police station was in a rather nice neighborhood in a rather nice town. The houses were tall and private and the restaurants were expensive and fancy. The only fast food restaurant was a burger joint that had softened their color scheme to comply with building registrations and was three blocks west of the station. Liam headed this way at first in case anyone was watching him, but he turned at the first cross street and circled back around to head towards the elementary school.
Barton Creek Elementary School fit well into the neighborhood where it was situated. It loomed tall, but the silhouette was distinct and interesting enough to keep it from being intimidating. Large, open windows peeked into brightly colored classrooms, and even the fence surrounding a crowded playground was brightly colored and carefully designed. Liam approached it from the side, and he stopped near the front of those colored gates, keeping an eye on the children on the play structure. He couldn't tell much from where he was, but the chaos of the playground seemed no more rambunctious than a normal playground. If Tanner's behavior had turned suddenly sour, this didn't seem like it was the place.
"Excuse me, officer."
Liam turned to see a middle aged woman with a colorful nametag pinned to her lapel. She was smiling at Liam, but in a flat way that didn't quite managed to hide the concern behind her eyes.
Liam's attention seemed to be all she needed to continue. "Is there a reason you're on Barton Creek property?
It was only then that Liam realized his mistake. No matter his uniform, he was a grown man without a child enrolled at the school, and hanging around the playground without a good reason was not a good look.
"Yes, ma'am, there is a reason," he said, though he didn't have any more idea than the woman in front of him what that would be until the words were across his lips. He didn't have time to think through his excuse before he gave it. "I need to interview one of your teachers about a recent case."
The woman softened. "Oh, yes, oh course. It was so tragic to hear about young Tanner and his family."
"Right," Liam said, though he had hoped the woman wouldn't draw that connection. If word got around that he was still investigating a closed case, things wouldn't be pretty. "I'm sorry if I was lingering."
"It's certainly no trouble," the woman said. "
You'll want a good understanding of the school for your investigation, I'm sure. In fact, I'll have one of our student guides show you around before you interview the teacher."
"Thank you," Liam said, though he was grateful for the excuse more than the tour.
"Why don't we go inside and get started?" she suggested, and Liam knew he didn't have much of a choice.
The front office of the school was full of bright colors, patterned against the walls in chaotic patterns that Liam supposed were supposed to seem childish. Instead they seemed forced and artificially friendly.
"Mrs. Robertson, could you send for a student ambassador? We have an officer here who would like shown around the building."
"Yes, Mrs. Winters."
It was second nature for Liam to examine his surroundings, especially when he was in uniform, so by the time he heard that response he had already noticed the nearby doorplate bearing the same name. Just beneath the name, the panel bore the words "Conflict Manager".
"Ah, yes, I see you noticed my office," Mrs. Winters said, following Liam's eyes. "Here at Barton Creek we don't believe in negative reinforcement or brutish punishment methods. Instead, we focus on conflict resolution and healthy coping mechanisms. As the head of the program, I'm also charged with handling any outside interference."
Liam got her message: police officer or not, he was an interference that needed handling.
"Mrs. Winters, your student ambassador is here."
"Ah, yes, of course," Mrs. Winters turned back towards the front desk. A little girl in a bright blue sash was standing on the other side of a locked gate, waiting for them. "The student ambassador program is another unique to Barton Creek. To encourage healthy interaction with school and outside officials, we allow our fourth and fifth grade students to take an active role in school tours and other promotional activities. It builds confidence and reinforces respectful behavior."
"Sounds like a very useful program," Liam agreed. He wondered if Tanner had been involved in it, but he figured he ought to save his questions for the boy's teacher. As Mrs. Winters led him through the gate, he was reminded the he wasn't meant to beat the school at all, and as she locked it behind him he was forced to confront the fact that he was there anyways, against all reason and rules.
"I'm Judy," greeted the girl in the sash. She was missing one of her front teeth, but she smiled wide all the same. "Welcome to Barton Creek Elementary school. I'll be showing you around today."
Her script sounded a bit rehearsed and mostly passionate, but it was endearing and Liam supposed he would rather be shown around the place by an actual student than a clerk or secretary. The school itself was actually quite nice- Liam didn't have any kids, but he thought that if he had, he wouldn't have had any problem sending them to a school like Barton Creek. The classrooms were large, but the class sizes small, and every room had been recently updated to support the latest in education technology. He was introduced briefly to a half dozen teachers from a variety of grades, and the kids were invariably polite when they popped in on the classrooms. Liam's suspicion that Tanner had not picked up any bad behavior from the school only grew stronger as the tour continued.
"Thank you Judy," Mrs. Winters dismissed as they made it back to the front office. "Have Mrs. Robertson take you back to class."
Judy looked up at Liam. "Thank you for taking the time to explore Barton Creek. I can't wait to meet our newest student and friend."
"Don't mind her. We have them say that to every new family after they've been dismissed to make the sales pitch feel a little more genuine, and I suppose she didn't understand that you weren't looking to enroll a student."
"Of course," Liam said, though the policy itself felt a bit sketchy. "It's not a problem."
"I'll walk you to Mrs. Jefferson's classroom," Mrs. Winters said. "It's just this way."
Liam glanced at his watch as he followed along. His lunch break was set to end in about two minutes, and he knew Kurt would notice a late return. He would probably assume that Liam was just skipping out on paperwork, but Liam was still uneasy knowing the question would be there. He hadn't even intended on entering the school, and he certainly hadn't planned a way to justify it.
They had walked through the fourth grade hallway on the tour, but it was the only grade where they hadn't stopped to peek into a classroom. Liam learned why soon after Mrs. Winters knocked on the door.
A heavyset woman with a genial appearance appeared through a small crack in the doorway, looking rather surprised to see Mrs. Winters on the other side. She didn't open the door all the way as she spoke. "I thought we were postponing public classroom visits for a few months, given the circumstances."
"Of course," Mrs. Winters agreed. "Today, however, we have a guest from the police station who wanted to ask you a few questions about those very circumstances."
"You aren't in any trouble, ma'am," Liam assured her. "We're just trying to cover all of our bases."
"Of course," the woman who could only be Mrs. Jefferson opened the door the rest of the way. "Just give me a moment to assign something to the students.
As she went back into her classroom to hand out some worksheets, Liam looked around the room. The walls were the same overly bright color scheme as every other room, but it was toned down somewhat by the decor. A duo of posters led students though healthy ways to deal with grief and encouraged them to talk to adults if they were feeling overwhelmed. A crate in the corner was full of notebooks whose covers identified themselves as grief journals. Four paper candles had been clumsily cut out and labelled with the names Liam recognized from his report. Two desks set empty but for a single flower on each. There were countless more signs of the tragedy littered around the room, and Liam was both upset and comforted in knowing he wasn't the only who hadn't let go.
"We can step out into the hallway if you'd like," Mrs. Jefferson recommended. "Mrs. Winters is more than qualified to keep an eye on my class for me."
Mrs. Winters nodded her permission as if it were something that Liam needed, and he followed the teacher out into the hallway. It was quiet and eerie outside of the classroom, and Liam was reminded of his own days at school. They hadn't been good, and he tried to keep the thought from interferring.
"Has there been a change in the case?" Mrs. Jefferson asked. "I was told that it had been closed."
That was true, and Liam wasn't in the habit of lying. He did his best to dodge the question. "There haven't been any new developments, but you can never be too thorough."
"Of course. How can I help you?"
"I'm actually here looking for information on your former student, Tanner Shepherd . Was he well behaved in class?"
"Oh, yes, Tanner was truly a lovely child. Did you need to turn on some kind of recorder? The other officers kept saying it was important to get things on the record."
"Right. Yes, of course. I forgot." Liam had not forgotten his recorder at all. In his mind, the small, state-issued box was a police resources, and if he recorded her interview he would be crossing a line he would rather not cross. With all eyes on him though, he really didn't have a choice. He pulled out the box and hit record. "Alright, go ahead."
"I was just saying that Tanner was a joy to have in class. He's certainly had some bad days, but so has everyone else, myself included. His loss is a true tragedy."
"Right," Liam said. He recognized Mrs. Jefferson's type: they went on and on about the perfection of the victims, hoping to get a sound byte into the newspaper. "Our records indicate he suffered from ADHD. Could you tell me a little bit about how that may have affected him in class?"
"Of course. I was working with our school counselor to make sure that our classroom was a suitable space for him to learn, but he hardly seemed to need it. Between his counseling sessions and the medication his parents had him on, he was practically just like the other kids."
The mention of medication brought a thought to Liam's mind. "Did you ever see him when he forgot to take his medicine."
"A few times," Mrs. Jefferson nodded. "He would leash out at his mother im sorry his step mother and had a hard time silent reading , but he was mostly the same kid."
"What about during free time? Did he seem louder or harder to handle?"
"Not that I can think of, but I don't supervise recess."
"What about his father? Did you ever witness any interactions between the two of them?"
"Of course. Once a month Tanner would have a meeting with the school counselor to talk about dealing with his ADHD. His father and I both went to them to provide guidance and accept criticism. Lovely man really. Is it true what they're saying about the alcohol?"
Before Liam could answer he was cut off with a voice from behind. "Unfortunately we don't make information like that public until a case is closed. And my partner wouldn't be here talking to you if the case was closed."
Liam had already recognized the voice but he still turned to face his fears. Kurt was standing behind him in full uniform, and he really didn't look happy.
"This is my Partner, officer Kurt Trevor. I didn't think he'd be joining us," Liam explained to the woman in front of him.
"I wasn't going to come until I heard that this was the case you were working on," Kurt said harshly. "After all, there is paperwork to be done back at the office."
"He's right," Liam said. He knew he couldn't get away with any more questions. "Thank you for your help, but I think we'v got all we need."
"You're welcome. I hope the case goes well," Mrs. Jefferson said, ducking back into the classroom. Mrs. Winters appeared s quickly that Liam wondered if she was listening at the door, and all too soon he was a block away from the school, walking back to the station with a seething Kurt. Another block later, his rage boiled over and he stopped his his tracks, whipping around to face Liam.
"What the hell were you thinking?" he exploded.
Liam stopped too. "I was just talking to her. The case didn't sit right to me."
"You closed the case! It's over! It's hardly even a case anymore!"
"I know. I wasn't investigating it as an officer. I just saw her name in this article and found the school online and-"
"And recorded her conversation on your work recorder? God, do you even remember West Beach?
Images flashed through Liam's mind, bloodstained picnic baskets and dismembered hands floating through his vision. He shook them away before they could overcome him, but still his hand trembled. "Of course I remember West Beach. This is nothing like that."
"It feels a hell of a lot like that," Kurt snapped. "You need to forget about this case before you do something you regret."
Kurt stormed off towards the police building and left Liam standing there in the street, alone but for his guilt.