The Perfect Son

by Freida McFadden

  “It’s all my fault,” I murmur into Jason’s damp shirt.

  His warm hand strokes the back of my head. “No, it’s not. Stop saying that. You’re a great mother. It’s not your fault.”

  How could he say that though? Especially now that he knows about my father?

  He squeezes me tighter. “Liam’s going to be fine. This is all a mistake. He’ll be home before you know it.” He kisses me on the top of my head. “Look, why don’t you take a shower so we’ll be ready for the hearing? I’ll take care of the graffiti.”

  Right—Liam’s bail hearing is at eleven. I’ve got to get out of bed and shower before that happens. I don’t know if I can muster up the energy though. I just keep thinking about Liam spending the night in jail. Or worse, spending the next thirty years’ worth of nights in jail.

  “Okay,” I mumble.

  Jason pulls away from me. When I look up at him, his brow is furrowed. “Are you going to be okay?”

  I nod wordlessly.

  “You sure?”

  I swallow a lump in my throat. “Go do what you need to do.”

  Jason almost looks like he’s going to insist on staying, but then my phone rings on my nightstand, so he takes the opportunity to go downstairs. I look over at the screen and see my boss’s name flashing.

  Oh God—I’ve got an article due today. It’s been the last thing on my mind lately, but Brian is going to go nuts that I don’t have it ready. I don’t want to lose my job on top of everything. Especially since it’s clear Liam’s legal bills will be substantial.

  “Hi, Brian,” I say. I try not to sound as terrible as I feel. If Liam can be charming when he doesn’t mean it, so can I. “I’m so sorry about the article being late. If you could just give me until tomorrow…”

  Brian is silent for a moment before he says anything. “That’s the thing, Erika. I need to talk to you about your article.”

  “I could probably have it by tonight if you really need it… Things have just been really crazy here.”

  “Yeah,” he breathes. “I heard.”

  Oh no.

  “Oh. I didn’t realize you knew.”

  “I’m a reporter, Erika. It’s all over the news.”

  “Not his name,” I squeak. As if it matters.

  “I think…” Brian’s voice lowers a notch. “I think would be for the best if you took a hiatus from the paper. Until this blows over. You need to be there for your family right now.”

  “It’s okay. I can still do my job.”

  “This isn’t optional.”

  Oh, I get it. Nobody wants to read parenting tips from the mother of a murder. I guess that makes sense. “For how long?”

  “Let’s play it by ear.”

  So… forever. Basically, I’m fired. There’s probably some law against this, but I don’t have the energy to fight this battle. I’m sure Brian knows it. “Fine.”

  “I’ll be in touch,” he promises.

  No, he won’t.

  I put down the phone. I hadn’t imagined it was possible, but I feel even worse now than I did five minutes ago. On top of everything, I’ve lost my job. At least Jason can’t get fired, since he’s his own boss. It’s a small comfort.

  I finally drag myself out of bed and into the shower. I let the hot water wash over me, not wanting to ever get out again. I want to live in the shower. What would Jason say if I refused to get out of the shower? But no. I have to be there for my family. It would be selfish to have a mental breakdown right now.

  As I’m toweling myself dry, my cell phone starts ringing in the bedroom. I run out of the bathroom, dripping wet, and reach for my phone just before it goes to voicemail.

  A voice hisses at me from the other line: “It would be a shame if somebody murdered your pretty little daughter like your son murdered that girl.”

  My heart nearly stopped in my chest. I stare at the phone. “Who is this?”

  Not surprisingly, they hang up.

  I close my eyes, wishing I could go to sleep and this would all be a horrible dream. But no. I’ve got to get dressed and go to this hearing. I’ve got to be there for Liam, no matter what horrible thing he’s done.

  Chapter 48

  Erika

  There are reporters outside the courthouse, so we follow Landon’s instructions and go around to the back. Thank God they can’t use Liam’s name, but I’m not sure where the restrictions end. Certainly if the entire Internet knows who he is, the reporters do too. They’re not by our house, but maybe soon they will be. And if Liam gets tried as an adult, which Landon says is a strong possibility, I’m worried all of those protections will vanish.

  The last time I was in a courtroom was when I served on a jury nearly a decade ago. There are rows of benches in the back for people to sit. A wooden table for the defense and one for the prosecution, and then a bench at the front where the judge presides. As Jason, Hannah, and I slide into the bench in the back, I’m reminded vaguely of going to church. It’s been longer since I’ve been in a church than a courthouse.

  Maybe we should have been more religious. Maybe that would have saved Liam.

  The judge is already seated in the front of the room. The Honorable George Maycomb. He’s old—old enough to be my father, with a full head of white hair and a neatly trimmed beard to match. Landon said that Judge Maycomb tends to be lenient, although when it comes to the murder of a young girl, all bets are off.

  After about ten minutes, a bailiff leads Liam into the courtroom, and I get my first look at my son since the police took him away. He’s wearing a wrinkled orange jumpsuit that’s a size too big on him, and he looks awful. His cheekbone is still purple from where Tyler hit him, and there are dark circles under his eyes. He looks like he didn’t sleep at all last night. He looks so bad, Hannah lets out a gasp when she sees him.

  For a moment, he doesn’t look like a sixteen-year-old, on the verge of adulthood—he looks like a scared little boy. My little boy. The same boy who sported a gap-toothed grin for a whole year and would hold up fingers to tell his age. I want more than anything to run up to him and throw my arms around him. I want to protect him from this.

  But I can’t. I did my best, and I failed.

  We don’t even get a chance to talk to him. Liam is led straight to his seat, but he sees us. He doesn’t wave, but he nods his head—I suppose an enthusiastic hello would be unbecoming coming from an accused murderer. I cringe as I recall that the last thing I said to him was to beg him to tell us where Olivia is. How could I have said that in front of the police? Yes, I meant it, but it was the wrong thing to say. I wonder if he hates me.

  Landon explained to us what would happen today. There will be no jury, but the charges will be listed, Liam will enter his not guilty plea, then Judge Maycomb will set bail. If there’s bail. Given he’s accused of murder, there’s no guarantee.

  The prosecutor is a woman named Cynthia Feinstein, who is around forty, with black eyes and an angry frown permanently etched on her lips. She looks like she wants to strap my son into the electric chair personally. When she stands up to speak, her voice is deep for a woman—intimidating.

  “Your honor.” She addresses the judge, her black eyes darkening further. “There is ample evidence that Liam Cass is responsible for Olivia Mercer’s disappearance. He was confirmed by multiple other students to be dating her. He was seen at her house at two in the morning, and she was witnessed entering his vehicle. Her hair and her blood were both found in the trunk of the vehicle when it was searched later. There are no other suspects in the case or persons of interest. Olivia Mercer has been missing for three days now, and given the blood in his vehicle, there is compelling reason to believe that he has killed her and hidden the body.” Feinstein pauses. “Given the seriousness of these charges and the overwhelming evidence, the defendant has ample reason to leave town to avoid conviction.”

  When the prosecutor says it like that, it sounds very convincing. If I were the judge, I wouldn’t give Liam bail. I l
ook at my son, who is sitting quietly at the defense table, his shoulders rigid, staring straight ahead.

  I wish I knew what he was thinking.

  Landon gets to his feet. “Your Honor, every piece of evidence that the prosecution has is circumstantial. We don’t even know at this point if Olivia has run away. Yes, they were together that night and there was evidence she was in his car. But is that so surprising if she was his girlfriend? Moreover, the defendant is a sixteen-year-old child. He’s just a boy.”

  At Landon’s words, every eye in the courtroom goes to Liam. I’m glad he’s in the rumpled jail jumpsuit and not in a suit. In a suit, he would have looked older. But now, he barely looks sixteen. He looks like a scared little boy.

  “He has never been away from his parents for more than one night,” Landon continues in a gentler voice. “Not even for a school trip. His mother works from home and she can be with him at all times. We’d be happy to hand over his passport or whatever else you need. But this is a bail hearing to determine flight risk, and I think it’s clear my client is in no risk of elopement.”

  Judge Maycomb strokes his white beard. He looks Liam over and sets the bail at $200,000.

  This is cause for celebration—the judge could have easily denied bail entirely and Liam would be locked up again until the trial. Instead, after we put down ten percent of the $200,000 to the bail bond company, we can have Liam home by this afternoon. It also means that Maycomb doesn’t think much of the prosecutor’s evidence against Liam.

  But none of us are in a celebratory mood during the drive home. The car is so silent, it feels like we’re coming home from a funeral. Jason drives and I sit shotgun, staring out the window. Hannah and Liam sit in the back, so quiet that I could forget they’re there.

  “How was last night?” Jason asks Liam, in a pathetic attempt to break the silence.

  Liam tugs at his collar as he squirms in his seat. He’s back in the same T-shirt and jeans he’d been wearing when he got arrested. “Fine.”

  “Were you able to sleep at all?”

  “A little.”

  “Did they feed you?”

  “Yeah. It was fine.”

  “What was the dinner?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t remember.”

  I nudge Jason to try to get him to stop. Obviously, Liam doesn’t want to talk about his night in jail. I can only imagine it must’ve been horrible for him. But isn’t it what he deserves?

  When we get to our front door, I sense something just as Jason is turning the lock. I don’t know what it is exactly, but I have a feeling like we shouldn’t go inside. It’s like a hand against my chest, pushing me backwards. Instinctively, I step in front of Liam. Even after everything that’s happened, my instinct is to put my own life in front of his.

  Especially when we step inside and see the glint of a knife.

  Chapter 49

  Erika

  She appears out of the shadows, her hair wild, her face streaked with tears. She’s holding a carving knife—one of ours. I recognize the handle. It’s a knife that somebody gave us as a housewarming present when Jason and I first moved in here. Jason carves the turkey with that same knife every Thanksgiving. I’ve used it enough times to know the blade has dulled over the years, but it’s far from harmless.

  She rushes at us with the knife. I take a step back, my arms outstretched to protect Liam and Hannah. Although I have a feeling Liam is the real target here. She goes right up to him, not caring that I am between them, and shakes the knife in his face.

  “Where is she?” the woman shrieks at him. “Where is my daughter?”

  Liam’s eyes widen. His mouth falls open and he manages to say, “I… I don’t know.”

  “You’re a liar!” The woman, apparently Olivia’s mother, Mrs. Mercer, shakes the knife at him. “I know all about you, Liam Cass. My daughter used to talk about you all the time. But Madison told me what you’re really like.”

  There’s only one of her and four of us, but she’s the one who has the knife. On the other hand, her right hand is shaking like a leaf. I don’t think she could stab him if she tried. But I’d rather she didn’t try.

  “Mrs. Mercer,” Jason says with his best attempt at a smile. “Please put down the knife and we’ll talk.”

  She doesn’t make any attempt to lower the knife. “I’ll put down the knife when he tells me where she is.”

  Jason pulled his phone out of his pocket. “If you don’t put down the knife, I’m calling the police right now.”

  Fresh tears sprout in Mrs. Mercer’s eyes. “Call them. I don’t care. He’s already taken the only thing that’s important to me in the whole world.”

  I look at Liam’s face. His brows are knitted together. As much as I don’t want this woman threatening my son with a knife, there’s part of me that’s hoping this might work.

  Tell us where she is, Liam! Please!

  But he doesn’t say a word, and Mrs. Mercer collapses into tears. She drops the knife on the ground and buries her face in her hands, sobbing. “I wish she never met you. I wish…”

  I don’t know what else to do, so I try to put my hand on Mrs. Mercer shoulder, but she shakes me off roughly. She lifts her tear-streaked face and looks at Liam one more time. “Please tell me where she is. If you have any ounce of humanity left inside you, please…”

  Liam’s eyes meet mine. And he just shakes his head.

  Jason is the one who gently leads Mrs. Mercer out of our house. He calls a taxi for her and gets her safely inside. She seems to have calmed down, but she’s still crying.

  Liam watches the whole thing, his face devoid of any emotion. And when the taxi pulls away, he goes upstairs to his room and shuts the door behind him without another word.

  Chapter 50

  Transcript of police interview with Hannah Cass:

  “How close are you with your brother, Hannah?”

  “I’d say we’re very close. He’s my best friend.”

  “Your best friend?”

  “Well, yeah. He’s my big brother. He looks out for me.”

  “You understand the charges against him.”

  “Yes, I understand. But you guys are totally wrong. Liam didn’t do anything.”

  “You’re aware of his history of antisocial behavior?”

  “You mean that hamster he killed? Yeah, I know about that. Mom makes such a big deal out of it. Out of everything. She’s such a drama queen.”

  “There were other incidents.”

  “Nothing big.”

  “Did he talk to you about his former English teacher, Mr. Young?”

  “I heard about it. But that was ridiculous. Liam didn’t do that. He was thirteen! How would he possibly know how to give someone carbon monoxide poisoning? I barely even know what that is.”

  “But you knew he disliked that teacher?”

  “Yeah, but… Listen, Liam didn’t do this to Olivia. He didn’t kidnap her and didn’t kill her. He liked her. He was so excited she agreed to go out with him.”

  “Why was he excited?”

  “Um, because he’s sixteen and a girl he liked agreed to go out with him? Is that a serious question?”

  “Several of his classmates warned Olivia to stay away from him.”

  “Like who? Tyler Martinson? He is, like, the worst person alive.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Because he is? He liked Olivia first, and he was mad that she wanted to go out with Liam and not him. Because Liam is handsome and charming, and Tyler is butt ugly and a jerk.”

  “It sounds like you don’t like Tyler very much.”

  “Let me tell you something about Tyler. One of my friends went out with him one time, and he was a jerk and she wouldn’t go out with him again. But he kept bugging her, so I told him to stay away. And then he started giving me a hard time.”

  “What did he do?”

  “Mostly stupid stuff. Yelling obscenities at me… Like I care. But one time when I was coming out of
school, he grabbed me and wouldn’t let me go. That one kind of scared me, because he’s a big guy. A football player, you know? He could have… Well, I don’t want to think about it.”

  “So what happened?”

  “Liam found out about it and he was really mad. I mean, really mad. He told me he was going to make sure Tyler never bothered me again.”

  “What did he do?

  “I don’t know. But after he said that, Tyler left me alone. So.”

  “You never asked him what he did?”

  “I’m sure it was less than what Tyler deserved. Honestly, I bet Tyler is the one who killed Olivia. I wouldn’t be at all surprised. Liam was there, but Tyler was the one with the motive. He would have killed someone just to get Liam in trouble. I swear to God.”

  “Olivia was in your brother’s car. There was a witness.”

  “Right. Exactly. Liam goes on a date with Olivia, then he shows up at her house at night and isn’t at all subtle about it. After doing all that, don’t you think he’d realize if she disappeared, he’d be the first one blamed?”

  “Sixteen-year-old boys are stupid.”

  “My brother isn’t stupid. Whatever else you can say about him, he’s really smart. If you really believe that stupid story about Mr. Young, he got away without a trace. Do you really think he would do something like that when it was so obvious he’d get caught?”

  “Maybe Olivia wouldn’t do what he wanted her to do when he came to see her.”

  “No way. Olivia was totally infatuated with him. She would have done anything for him. He didn’t need to kidnap her. I’m telling you, Liam didn’t do this. You’ll see. The truth will come out.”

  Chapter 51

  Erika

  My phone hasn’t stopped ringing all day. I wish I could turn it off entirely, but I’m too scared of missing an important call. That said, I don’t answer any numbers I don’t recognize. At least eighty percent of the phone calls are threatening. People likely in my own town—my neighbors—telling me my son should be locked up, that my family should be murdered.