Landon was leaving.

None of us were particularly shocked. Katherine almost had to hold back an "I told you so." Landon's mom was in the car, knowing not to honk the horn to hurry her son. She knew it would be the last time we would see him for a while.

Katherine took Landon into my living room and sat him in a chair across from her. She asked for privacy, so instead of joining them, I eavesdropped on them from the other side of the wall. "Landon, I have to know something."

"Wh-what's that, Kattie?"

"Could...could you play piano for me when you come back?" she whispered just loud enough that I could hear.

"I...of course, Kat. Of course I will." I heard the chair screech against the hardwood floor. I rushed to the stairs and sat down as to not look suspicious. Landon nervously smiled at me as he scratched his wan arms. "Hey, Avery."

"Landon," I replied with a warm smile.

"I...I'm not gonna lie to you anymore, okay? Not ever," he promised, crossing his heart.

"I know, Landon. I know you won't."

"Not faking it this time, Ave. I promise."

"I know, Landon. I believe you," I swore. I stood and let Landon rest his head on my shoulder.

"When you find out who killed Carson Harris, you let me know, okay?" he whispered into my ear. "We owe it to him. He...he really wanted to make the world a better place. You're gonna get this son of a bitch, okay?"

"I promise, Landon," I replied, echoing the gesture of crossing my heart. Landon ran his hand through his hair as he glanced back towards the car.

"I'll write to you, Avery."

"I expect you to be a well-versed poet by the time you get out of there, Landon," I quipped.

"Oh, you can forget about Shakespeare. I'll be the new thing they learn about in schools, decades from now. Once civilization has ended, and the night cometh, Landon Thompson's works will live on." He proudly lifted his head and saluted the air.

"I'm sure, Landon." I saluted him back and then wrapped my arms around him. "I'm really gonna miss you."

"I mean, who wouldn't?"

"Can't think of a soul who wouldn't miss The Landon Thompson."

"Of course you can't," he scoffed. He hugged me back, letting go when he recalled that his mother was waiting patiently for him. "Bye, Avery Carter. I love you."

"I love you too, Landon." I watched him sulk out of the house, flashing me a sad smile before he softly shut the door.

Katherine joined me on the staircase and heaved. "I...I wanted to ask him more..."

"You were gonna ask him if he killed Carson. Or if he knew who did. Right?"

"Right. You don't believe him that he'll stop lying to you?"

"...Right," I sighed. "So, wanna get back to this case?"

Katherine smiled. "Yeah, sounds like a plan."

Katherine sat opposite of me on my bed. "Okay, so I was thinking that maybe we're going about this all wrong. We've just been following leads that happen to fall in our laps instead of doing actual research. We need to look for why Xander Masefield would want to hurt Carson, who he's connected to, and anyone else that would want Xander dead."

"Like, besides Hunter, Landon, Pierce, Jane, etcetera?"

"Hunter, Landon, Pierce, and Jane didn't want Carson dead. Maybe we're just suspecting them because we want to suspect someone."

"When'd you think of this?"

"Everyone always says that Carson was a good guy that found himself at the wrong time, all the time. And while Landon took me to the Elm house, I thought, 'Let's look at suspects we haven't even considered.'"

"Why did you think of that then?"

"Because...," I tentatively began, "just because Carson got caught up in some stuff doesn't mean that it killed him, you know? Not everything happens for a reason; Carson just happened to be there, and it sucks. But I'm sick and tired of things happening to us instead of things happening because of us. I wanna make a dent in this case."

Katherine straightened her posture and pounded her fist in her hand. "Let's do this, Avery. We're gonna avenge Carson."

"Okay, so I figured that we know three people that would know who Carson's enemies are: Mrs. Harris, Mr. Harris..."

"And?"

"I mean, you won't like this one," I replied, scratching the back of my head and looking down.

Katherine groaned and collapsed back onto the bed. Lying prostrate and talking into the pillow, she groaned, "Nooooooooo."

"Katherine, he's really a good guy, you just--"

"Avery, I don't trust him."

"But I trust him, and you trust me."

"I trust you, I don't trust Pierce fucking Prescott, and I know that you don't trust me."

"What're you talking about? Of course I trust you," I scoffed.

"Avery, I'm not gonna lie: you're my best friend. And that's a little sad--considering the fact that we just met last month--but it's true. And it hurts me that you don't trust me."

"Didn't you hear what I just said? I trust you, Katherine. I trust you. I know I've said things in the past--"

"Like asking me if I killed Carson," she grumbled.

"--but that wasn't right. I trust you, Kat. And honestly, I don't really trust a lot of people anymore. I shouldn't trust anybody, considering the fact that everyone has lied to me, but I do. I trust you, I trust Dakota, I trust my mom, and you might hate it, but I trust Pierce."

"He's only doing this because he's paid to."

"Maybe, but it doesn't matter. All that matters is that he can help."

"Why can't we just ask the Harrises for leads?" she grumbled, sitting up and clinging to a pillow.

"Well, I don't particularly want to go up to the mourning parents and say, 'Hey, do you know who might've killed your son?' Besides, Mrs. Harris probably thinks that I killed Carson."

"Yeah, I mean, I guess you're right. I don't want her to hurt anymore than she already is...," Katherine reluctantly agreed. She pouted into her pillow, "But I don't wanna."

"I can go alone, if you want," I offered. Katherine shook her head.

"No, no, it's okay. I have to keep facing these things," Kat replied with an apathetic shrug. "Heh; maybe talking to him will make me feel better. Maybe I can yell at him again."

"Yeah, maybe. I'm sure he'll love it," I enthusiastically replied, clapping my hands together. "Wanna head over there?"

"We have to go there?" she grumbled.

I giggled slightly and said, "Yeah, he'll probably hang up the phone drunk, anyway."

I rapped lightly on the door, dodging the splinters sticking out of the red door. I figured I would have to either inquire Pierce as to why the door was broken or rather why he refused to fix the door.

"Pierce, open up!" I called. When he failed to come to the door, I knocked slightly louder.

"Maybe he's not here," Katherine offered.

"I mean, all he does is drink and work, so I figured this is where he would be," I replied. I reached for the door handle and realized that it wasn't locked. "Should we go in? Is that breaking and entering?"

"Um...just 'entering,' and I don't think that's illegal," Kat replied. "Let's go." She pushed the door open nonchalantly and waltzed right in. I shrugged as I shut the door quietly behind her.

"Pierce?" I yelled. No response.

"Avery, do you know what this means?" Katherine replied, suddenly turning stern.

"Aliens. Abduction. We're next?"

"Better," she coyly replied. "We can look through his stuff."

"Why would we want to look through his stuff?"

"For clues, Supposed Sherlock Holmes," Katherine stated in a "duh" voice. She gestured to his office and grinned devilishly. "Let's look through his case files."

"I...I don't know. It doesn't feel right." I was hesitant to do anything that might betray Pierce's trust, especially after he was there for me when I needed it.

"Come on, real quick." Before I could refute Katherine again, she was already rushing into the office and rummaging through drawers. "I'm telling ya, if this"--she waved a vodka bottle in the air--"didn't interfere with my meds, I'd be taking a few swigs right about now."

"Put that down, Katherine," I scolded. "You're gonna drop it."

"Hmm, I don't know. I was thinking of becoming a bartender instead of following in Daddy's footsteps and taking over the company," she quipped as she bounced the bottle between her hands. I snatched it mid-flight and set it down on the table.

"Is that what your dad wants you to do? What you wanna do?"

"Well, he knows that Matt won't wanna do it, and we all love Hunter, but especially after that talk we had the other day, he knows Hunter would never succeed at it. Hunter is more of a...free spirit. All that's left is me." Katherine glanced down and muttered, "Someone's gotta do it."

"But, I mean, do you want to do it?"

She shrugged. "Maybe. I don't know. I've still got years until Daddy retires--which, honestly, will be never. He's married to his job."

"Katherine, can I ask you something?"

"Yeah..."

"Have...have you told your dad that you and Carson dated?" I blurted out. Katherine blushed and turned away from me.

"I...no," she answered, flustered.

"Well, I don't think he would go to the press that I didn't actually date Carson, so maybe you should try and--"

"Avery, look!" Katherine interjected, clearly wanting to change the subject. "This is his drawer with his past cases in it. Cases dating back to 2000, at least." She rummaged through a small filing cabinet that was adjacent to his desk.

"Katherine, I really don't feel right doing this," I admitted. "I mean, there's no point. He would tell us--"

"No, Avery, he wouldn't!" she suddenly snapped. She noticed me flinch and a look of remorse sprung across her face. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to yell. But listen: you're clearly biased towards this guy. But I can't trust him. He's lied so much, Avery. I didn't think coming here he would tell us anything close to the truth, but now we have this small window of time to get some real answers."

"Kat, he wouldn't lie to me."

"But he would lie to me, and that's all he needs to tell us any bullshit story to cover his tracks."

"What tracks, Katherine? You're being paranoid," I accused.

"Maybe I am, Avery! When you first came to me, I was just a pathetic girlfriend who was mourning Carson but wouldn't do crap to solve this mystery. And then I met you, and now I really, really want my Carson to be able to rest easy knowing that we found out who did it. The cops haven't made any substantial leads--I mean, their main suspects are you and that Xander kid--so they're not any help. The only people we can count on right now is each other." Katherine went back to sorting through the endless papers and manila envelopes stuffed within the cabinet. She kept mumbling the letter "H" in hopes of finding the name "Harris." I sighed and watched her with concern and pity.

"Harris, Harris, Harris...ugh, it's not here!" she whined, stomping her foot.

"Maybe...maybe it's in another drawer. I'll look over here," I offered, crouching down and checking the desk's lower left drawer. Katherine raised an eyebrow as I finally took her side, but I ignored her. I decided to humor her for a little while; besides, it wasn't like we were actually gonna find anything incriminating.

After a few minutes of searching, I grasped onto something underneath the desk: a latch. I gently tugged it and felt something within the desk collapse. I worriedly opened the drawer that was attached to the latch and saw that part of the drawer had fallen onto the floor. Picking up the missing piece, I realized that it was actually a tiny box that had been built into the desk. Examining it carefully, I cautiously opened it up. A key.

Looking up, I realized that there was but a single drawer that possessed a slot for a tiny key. I tried it and was satisfied with the result: Success. As I rummaged through it, my hand grasped onto something in the very back. I withdrew my hand to see what I had discovered: a tape recorder.

"Avery!" Katherine suddenly exclaimed. "I've found something!"

"Really?"

"Yeah. It's like it's out of an old movie," she explained as she played with a painting on the wall. It was that famous painting, the one with the people sitting in a diner. I grinned--I didn't think Pierce as the artistic type.

"Yeah, it's a good painting," I replied.

Katherine chuckled. "Not the painting, Avery." She grabbed the painting off of its hook and set it down lightly on the floor. "This." I almost laughed with her: there was a safe within the wall, concealed by Edward Hopper's (I was so proud that I actually remembered the artist's name) painting. When Katherine squinted at the combination lock, I recalled that within it, Pierce had stowed away money, papers, and a gun.

"Well, we don't have a combo, so..."

"Yeah, I guess we're at a loss for now."

"Well, I found this tape recorder in his desk, but--"

"Play it!"

"No, I'm not playing it. This might be private stuff, I'm putting it back." Katherine pouted in protest, but figured that listening to it might actually have revealed some private information. I stuffed it in the back of the drawer, locked it, and concealed the key where I had found it. "So, I guess we're going now."

"What about the safe?"

"I told you, we don't have the combo for it, so we may as well leave--"

"Good idea." Katherine and I both jumped as we greeted who was leaning on the doorway. Crap. "Hello, girls."

"Hi, Pierce," I muttered. Katherine stared him down with soulless eyes. Pierce carried his coat in his hand and set it down on his chair.

"What're you two doing here?" he inquired. He sounded more curious than irate (which I was both thankful for and doubtful of) as he poured himself a glass of whatever was contained in the bottle of the day.

"We came to see you, and the door was open, so we just--"

"Broke in?"

"No, just entered," Katherine replied, folding her arms.

"Entered with justice in mind," I muttered with a sly grin.

Pierce chuckled. "Could you put that painting back?"

"What's in the safe?" Katherine inquired as she obeyed, picking up the painting and hanging it back on its hook.

"Fake passports, IDs, about ten grand in cash, two packs of cocaine, and several handguns," he deadpanned.

"Wiseass," Katherine murmured.

"Sorry, I didn't hear what--"

"Wise. Ass," she loudly clarified.

Pierce tipped his glass to her. "Better. Enunciate your insults so that they have more impact."

"Pierce, we really just came here to see if you knew anybody that might've wanted to hurt Carson," I explained, eager to focus attention on me instead of the awkwardness that lingered within all of us.

"Y'know, besides yourself," Katherine elaborated. Both Pierce and I shot her some shade. "Take offense."

"Taken. Well, besides Mr. Masefield...have you two tried looking at police records?"

"What, like online?" I asked.

"Yes, online. They have tons of public information."

"We need private information," Katherine said.

"What makes you think that I have any private information?"

"You always do," I replied. Pierce shrugged and nodded.

"Well, who are your suspects?"

"Well, past suspects include: my brother Hunter, Landon Thompson, Liam and Jane, and you."

"When have I ever been a suspect?" Pierce scoffed.

"Hey, don't take too much offense. Avery also asked if I killed Carson."

"We should make a club," he quipped. He raised his hands and announced, "Now accepting members to the Wrongfully Accused Club." I glared at him. "Well, to be fair, I told her that you might've done it, so I guess we're even."

"Pierce, be serious for a second," I moaned. "Do you have anyone to suspect that isn't on that list?"

"Hmm...oh, did you guys ever look at Johanna Creonte?" he inquired.

"Who the hell is Johanna?" Katherine asked, but then suddenly realization struck her. "Oh, my God."

"Who the hell is Johanna?" I echoed. Pierce suddenly looked saddened as Katherine covered her gaping mouth in disbelief.

"It's her."

"That doesn't really answer my--"

"Carson was accused of three cases of manslaughter," Pierce interjected. His voice was forlorn and his eyes were austere. "That's gonna leave some people upset."

"And that included Johanna?"

"She was only sixteen," Pierce muttered. He cleared his throat and downed his liquor. "Avery, remember when I told you that the crash left a young child and two adults dead?" I nodded. "And another orphaned? Well, that would be Miss Creonte."

"Johanna Creonte...," Katherine mumbled. "I can't believe it."

"Did you meet her, Kat?" I asked.

"No, but I remember her name," she replied. "Carson talked about her sometimes."

"She lived in Philly, then got shipped up to Maine to live with some relatives," Pierce said. "If I were her, I would've murdered Carson the second I had the chance."

"Shut up," Katherine stammered, tears suddenly threatening to spring free from her eyes. Pierce didn't reply.

"Why didn't you ever tell us about her?" I asked.

"Because that girl doesn't deserve to be drawn back into any of this," Pierce answered, gesturing to the room as he did so. "Doesn't deserve to be drawn back into the court rooms and lawyers and witnesses and death. Let her be."

"But you just said she might've--"

"Look, she lives in Maine. She couldn't have killed Carson. I was just offering something. Maybe someone that knew Miss Creonte did it, I don't know. Listen, kid: I'm gonna put Mr. Masefield in jail and let it be the end of everything."

"But what if he--"

"I'm not letting you go to jail, Avery. I'm not letting you go to jail," he promised. Katherine suddenly stormed out of the room, probably back to the car. "You should go after your friend."

"Pierce, I'm sorry that we went through your stuff."

"It's okay, Avery. I probably would've done the same thing." He grinned wickedly at me. "Besides, it's not like you were gonna find anything in here."

"Yeah, you're right." I waved him a farewell and proceeded out the door.

"Oh, and Avery?" he called.

"Yeah, Pierce?" I asked, turning my head.

"Don't trust that girl," he warned. He drank and sorted through some papers that were strewn on his desk.

I left without saying goodbye.