But it looks like Ash is a person of interest because he was the last person seen leaving the house just a few days ago. The only reason we know this much is because Zane has a buddy in the force and pressed him for info.
I didn’t known Ash went back home. A neighbor saw him slip inside through the window, and then leave a while later through the main door.
Suspect behavior.
But that cinches it for me. It’s one thing imagining Ash killing his father in self-defense; quite another believing he went back in secret to commit murder.
I can’t believe it. Not for a second.
And now I know why he was fighting—he needs money to live because he’s homeless and without support—it has all fallen into place. Ash isn’t violent. He isn’t a trouble-maker. He’s a good person. Someone worth standing up for.
“He must have gone back to get his cell,” Zane says and waves the phone. “He didn’t have it before I left for the Christmas holidays. His cell and his wallet, some clothes. Erin said he had a duffel bag. That’s why he went back. Not to kill anyone.”
“You should tell the police that,” I say.
“I did.”
Tessa rubs her face. “Who found his dad’s body?”
“His cleaning was calling for days and he wouldn’t pick up, so she went to check on him and called the cops.” Zane scowls. “I wonder if she knew what sort of scumbag he was.”
My cell rings then and I dive to grab it from the coffee table. “Hello?”
“Ms. Morrison? This is Officer Nielsen, calling to see if you have heard from Asher Devlin.”
“You haven’t found him yet?” Fear crushes me.
“No. We were hoping you could give us a lead as to where he might have gone.”
“I wish I knew.”
A pause. “Please tell him to get in contact with us if you hear from him.” And the line disconnects.
I shake the cell, struggling not to throw it at the wall. “No sign of him.”
“Why hasn’t he called me?” Zane hunches over, running his hands over the shaved sides of his head. “I told him to call me whenever he needed something.”
“He doesn’t have his cell,” Tessa says.
“There are phones everywhere. Last time this happened...” Zane lets out a long breath. “It’s gonna get real cold tonight. We have to go look for him.”
“Where?” My lips tremble. “You couldn’t find him. Where else could we look?”
“If he’s hurt,” Zane says, “then he’d go someplace where he feels safe.”
“And where is that?” I sink on the couch next to him. “I can’t think of any place Ash feels safe right now.”
“He felt safe here,” Tessa says.
“So why hasn’t he come back?” I glare at Zane as if this is his fault.
“He’s a proud guy, that fucker. He thinks he can handle everything by himself. His old man taught him that if he can’t, then he’s a pussy.”
I sigh. Maybe so, but I don’t need a bad dream to tell me something’s seriously wrong. I feel it in my bones.
“He must’ve holed up somewhere,” Zane says.
“If he’s hurt, he may not be thinking straight,” Tessa mutters. “He’d head to a familiar place.”