#adele stackhouse

By the time Stiles and Adele had finished talking and tidying up it was late and Stiles was hopeful that he’d delayed her enough to alleviate the risk to her a little.

“Can i give you a ride home?” he asked. “My jeep is parked nearby.”

“I would appreciate that Stiles, thank you.”

He smiled and guided her to his jeep, opening the door for her and helping her inside before darting around to the driver’s side.

“Sorry about the mess,” he said, glancing at the back seat where his stuff was piled up.

“It’s quite alright. Sookie’s car is worse.” She looked up at the visor where he’d stuck a picture of his mom and him. “Your mother?”

“Yes. She passed away when I was ten, that’s one of the last good pictures of her before she got sick”

“And your father?”

“Still alive. He's a Sheriff, spends most of his time working.” Stiles shrugged. 

“Does he know where you are?”

“No. It's better than way, trust me.” Adele didn't look convinced so Stiles decided to change the subject. “I noticed you had a family tree up at the meeting. Your maiden name is Hale?”

“Yes. The Hales have been around here for a good few generations now, not as long as the Stackhouses though.”

“Probably a weird question but you don't happen to have any relatives in California do you? The town I'm from was founded by Hales.”

“Yes I believe so, the Louisiana Hales branched off from the main family a few hundred years ago, although my genealogical research gets a bit spotty that far back. Are there any Hales left in California?”

“A couple. I'm good friends with one of them. Peter. I'll ask him if he has any family trees tucked away. If anyone does, it's him. But fair warning, there was a big fire a few years ago so that might have burned up any official records they had.”

“Oh that's terrible!”

They pulled up on the Stackhouse drive. The lights were on in the house and the front door was open, swinging in the breeze. As Adele opened the car door, Stiles heard shouting from inside.

“I think something's going on…” he said, wary.

“That's Sam's car. Him and Sookie must be back… maybe they had a fight? I'm sure it's nothing serious but would you mind waiting while I have a look?”

“Of course not. Do you want me to come with you to make sure?”

“No, you stay in the cool. I'll be back in just a minute.”

Adele headed up the drive to the house. She hadn't made it more than halfway when a figure ran out the doorway and down to where Stiles was parked. Before he had time to think, strong hands grabbed hold of him and ripped him out through the open window.

“GAAAAH! What the hell!” Stiles struggled, his power flaring up under his skin. He pushed it down; it would not be good for him to accidentally kill someone because he got startled.

“Next time you want to break in somewhere, you should work on your getaway plan,” snarled the irate shifter that had a hold of him.

“Break in? I just got here! I was bringing Miss Stackhouse home!”

“Sookie got a cab. Try again.”

“Not that Miss Stackhouse!”

“Sam Merlotte, you let that boy go right this second!”

Sam looked up to see Adele brandishing a broom at him, Sookie stood nearby with her arms folded and Bill hovering behind her.

“You know this kid?”

“Yes. That's Stiles. He stayed after the meeting and helped tidy up. Then he drove me home. And I don't appreciate you manhandling him.”

“Gran’s right, Sam. Don't you think if he'd broken in he might have hid his car a bit better? And there's the fact that it's parked behind yours. He wasn't here when you arrived.”

“I can sm-” Sam cut off. Stiles guessed that he was about to say something along the lines of ‘i can smell him inside’.

Looks like the Shifter isn't ‘out’ about his secret.

“I was here this morning,” Stiles said under his breath, too quietly for anyone but Sam and Bill to hear. “That's what you can smell”

Sam released him like he'd been burned, taking a step back. He eyed Stiles and looked over at Bill who was watching with barely concealed interest. Stiles took the opportunity to distance himself from the Shifter, moving towards the Stackhouses.

“What happened?”

“Someone broke in. They trashed the kitchen.”

“Anything gone?”

“Not that I noticed. Why would someone break in just to wreck things?”

“Maybe they were expecting someone to be home…?” Stiles offered cautiously, not wanting to upset either woman. Adele stiffened and pulled Sookie to her, holding her close.

“Thank heavens we weren't here!”

“It could certainly have been a lot worse,” Bill said.

“You should call the police. Even if nothing was taken they might be able to get some prints or something,” Stiles said. “Will the two of you be okay?”

“Yes, thank you Stiles.”

“I will keep watch in case the intruder tries to return,” Bill added, giving a hard look towards Sam. “The two of you can head on home.”

Stiles shrugged and went to his jeep, checking for damage from being dragged through the window before getting in. He was more than happy to leave. He'd done his part and he wanted to get away before anyone started asking awkward questions.

“Hope they catch the guy. Miss Stackhouse. Sookie. Sleep well.”

The next morning after, once again, being woken too early by the bright light and the heat that had already managed to invade his jeep, Stiles rinsed off with a bottle of water, dressed and made his way to Merlotte’s. He didn’t particularly want to go there after the night before, but he knew the Shifter would have questions and figured it was better to go there under his own steam rather than wait to be dragged through another window.

The door to the bar was unlocked and the inside was blessedly cool. A man in a vest top with a scarf tied around his head was sitting by the bar, skimming a magazine.

“We’s not open yet,” he said, without looking up.

“That’s okay, i’m not here for food or drink. Is the boss in?”

The man looked over the top of his magazine, eyeing Stiles up before lowering it and getting to his feet, an appraising look on his face.

“He is. And who might you be sweetness?”

“Stiles. And who are you? Other than gorgeous.”

“You, i like. I’m Lafayette. How come I ain’t never seen that fine ass around here before?”

“Maybe you weren’t looking hard enough,” Stiles said with a grin. “Love your eyeliner. One of the queens at this club i used to go to tried to teach me how to do that, i always ended up smudging it.”

“Mmm mmm! Well aren’t you just a spoonful of sugar and spice and all things nice?”

“Lafayette!” A voice called from the back. A moment later the shifter appeared, freezing when he spotted Stiles. “Lafayette, don’t you have prep to do?”

Lafayette retreated to the kitchen, grumbling under his breath. Sam sighed and reluctantly beckoned for Stiles to follow him. The two left the dining room, passing the kitchen and down a narrow hall to the office. Stiles immediately made himself comfortable in an available chair and after a moment Sam sat too.

“I suppose I should apologise for last night?”

“Probably. But it’s fine if you don’t. You were protecting someone you cared about.”

“Well… thanks. That’s generous of you.”

“Official introduction, I’m Stiles Stilinski. You’re Sam, right?”

“I am. And you know… what i am?”

“Yes. Shifter, right?”

“Uh huh. And you?”

“Not a shifter.”

“Well obviously you’re not a vampire.”

“That’s an accurate assessment.”

Both of them were silent for a moment, Sam clearly waiting for Stiles to elaborate on his status. When that didn’t happen, Sam huffed but moved on.

“Why were you in Sookie’s house? You said that’s why i could smell you.”

“Yeah, I found her purse when I was at Fangtasia the other night. I swung by to drop it off. Don’t worry, i’m not trying to muscle in on your crush. I think toothless has got that covered.”

Sam snorted at the nickname.

“I noticed.”

“I take it you’re not a fan of the undead american? Does that go for all of them or just the ones who are interested in Sookie?” Stiles knew he was pushing his luck a bit. Sam could easily shut down if he got too nosey but honestly the guy looked like he needed an opportunity to vent.

“I won’t deny it’s a contributing factor. I don’t appreciate that she’s been repeatedly in danger since he got here.”

“From the killer?”

“First night he arrived, he gets attacked and drained in the parking lot. She has to get involved. Next night, she gets the shit kicked out of her by the drainers. Would never have happened if she’d learn to leave well enough alone.”

Oh now that was interesting. Drainers? Stiles made a note to investigate that little encounter further.

“I can't imagine she'd take that suggestion well.”

“You have no idea…”

“I take it Sookie doesn't know about you? I guessed last night but I don't want to end up talking at cross purposes with her and accidentally spilling something. Not cool to out someone before they're ready.”

“I appreciate the discretion. No, I haven't told her. I've thought about it but…”

“Baggage. I get it. Anyway, that's one of the reasons I wanted to talk to you. To just reassure you that I'm not here to cause trouble with you and yours.”

“And the other reason?”

“I heard you might be looking for a new server? Was wondering if you might consider me? I worked in a couple of diners while i’ve been traveling around.” Sam made a slight face and Stiles could already tell he was going to say no.

“I’m not sure, you’re a little young…”

“No sweat. Have a good day.” Stiles got to his feet, brushing invisible dirt off himself as an excuse not to shake hands.

“Nice meeting you Stiles. Oh, and before you go? The sheriff wanted to get a statement from you about the break in.”

“I’ll swing by there. Thanks Sam.”

He left the office, pulling the door behind him. Lafayette was leaning out of the kitchen, watching him.

“How’d it go in there?”

“I guess I don’t look as good in shorts as the other servers.”

“Now that is some bullshit. You pack that tight ass into a pair of shorts and you would have the cougars in this town fighting to get a piece of you!”

Stiles gave him a grin. He was disappointed but it was no big deal, he could find something else to do. He had his laptop in the jeep, although he’d not used it on the off chance that someone from Beacon Hills got Danny to track it. He could sell it

Or you could call Peter

He slammed his jeep door unnecessarily hard as he got in, trying to drive off his traitorous thoughts. Peter had done enough for him already.

He delayed going to the police station for as long as he could. He knew he’d not done anything wrong but the thought of entering the station was daunting. He’d been to a few police stations, usually when his dad had to visit other towns and couldn’t get a sitter, and they always seemed to have the same feel to them. The same smell lingered in the walls. Sitting outside of the Bon Temps Police Department, he felt homesick. 

Unfortunately he knew hanging around outside a police station eventually attracted negative attention, so he forced himself to go inside. The front desk was empty but after a few minutes, a short man emerged from one of the back rooms.

“Can I help you son?”

“Yeah, I’m Stiles Stilinski?” The man stared blankly. “I was told I needed to come down here and give a statement about the break in at the Stackhouse residence?”

“Right. Yes. I’m Sheriff Dearborne. Sorry about the wait, Rosie’s running late and ain’t picking up her phone. Follow me.”

Sheriff Dearborne took Stiles to a small interview room and gestured for him to make himself comfortable.

“No need to be nervous son, it’s just some routine questions to make sure we’ve got all the details.”

“I’m not nervous. I have family in law enforcement, i spent a lot of time in this kind of place.”

The Sheriff nodded and pulled out his notebook, sitting opposite. He opened his mouth to speak when two loud voices came from the hall.

“What in the world…?”

The door to the interview room burst open and a portly balding man barged in, dragging Sookie’s brother with him.

“Andy! I am collecting a statement in here. And what the hell have you bought him in for this time?”

“Rosie’s been murdered,” Andy snapped. “And I know this son’o’a’bitch is involved.”

“I told you! I have never slept with Rosie!”

“That’s what you said about Maudette at first too!”

Sheriff Dearborne got to his feet and separated Andy from Jason, nodding to a free chair which the younger man obediently sat in.

“Are you saying there’s been another murder? And you didn’t call it in?”

“I left Kenya to secure the scene and went to pick up Stackhouse before he could get Miss Thornton to give him another bullshit alibi.”

“Andy!”

Stiles leaned over in his seat towards Jason. The man was looking increasingly jumpy and was sweating a lot, his leg bouncing and his fingers drumming against the table.

Probably having withdrawals

“You okay man?”

“Do i look okay?!”

Jason’s raised voice caught the attention of Andy who turned and seemed to register Stiles’ presence in the room for the first time. 

“Who’s he?”

“As i was trying to tell you, I was getting his statement before you came barging in. He was at the Stackhouse home last night.”

The words were like a rag to a bull. Andy squared his shoulders and levelled his gaze on Stiles.

“Oh yeah? How come I ain’t seen you in town before?”

“I’m new?”

“And you show up about when bodies start dropping? And you’re saying that’s a coincidence? When did you get here?”

“Hey, i thought you were convinced he’d done it. Why am I on trial?” Stiles couldn’t help snarking back, jerking his thumb towards Jason.

“HEY!”

“Sorry. Force of habit. Okay, deputy…?”

“Bellefleur.”

“Right. Deputy Bellefleur. Are you officially calling me a suspect?”

“No-” Sheriff Dearborne started.

“Considering it.”

“So when you asked me when i got here, that’s you officially questioning me?”

“Andy…”

“Yes, now answer the question damnit.”

“So I’m not free to leave? Despite you having no evidence and not properly informing me of my rights? You may want to think before answering that one.”

Andy blinked, taken aback by Stiles' calm but abrupt demeanour. The silence was the opportunity the Sheriff needed to subdue his colleague.

“Mr Stilinski, you are absolutely free to go. You are not a suspect and of course if you were, Deputy Bellefleur would have followed all official processes.”

“Bud!” Andy protested, his face bright red.

“Great. And just for the record, those first two murders took place… two, three days ago? I was in Arkansas. I have receipts from the gas stations and diners i stopped at. I got into town night before last, late, after stopping in Shreveport for a break. Yesterday i went to the Stackhouse home in the morning cause I’d found Sookie’s purse. Last night I went to the meeting at the church, then helped Adele Stackhouse tidy up and gave her a ride home. We got there a few minutes after Sookie arrived and discovered the place had been robbed. That cover everything?”

“Yes…” Andy said, sounding like a scolded child. Stiles smiled and got to his feet, then turned his focus to Jason. The guy was definitely having withdrawals and he knew V could make people crazy temperamental. He didn’t want to leave and find out later that Jason had put his fist through a wall or Andy Bellefleur’s face.

“Jason right?” he asked.

“Yeah?”

“You were at the church meeting, where did you go after that?”

“Err… i went to Merlotte’s with Rene and Hoyt. And then i was with a girl.”

“Tara Thornton?” Sheriff Dearborne cut in.

“No… Randy Sue. Tara caught me round the back of the building with her so we went back to my place.”

“And she’ll vouch for that?” Stiles continued, ignoring both officers.

“Yeah.”

“Great. Come on, let’s go.”

“Now wait a minute!” Andy was getting even redder. Stiles wondered idly if he would get so red steam came out of his ears like a cartoon.

“He has an alibi. If you really want to hold him, you get 24 hours but i’ll be giving him the number of my lawyer friend.”

“He is free to go,” Sheriff Dearborne said before Andy could protest. “I’m sorry about this Jason.”

“No problem…” Jason seemed a little bit shellshocked but let Stiles guide him out of the room and through the front door. “How did you… why’d you do that?”

“My dad’s a sheriff. I don’t like cops who use it as an excuse to settle their own vendettas. Speaking of, that Andy guy really seems to have it out for you. Not trying to tell you your business but until they catch that killer, it’s probably a good idea if you keep as many people around you as possible. Multiple alibis and all that.”

“I didn’t do nothing,”

“I know but that doesn’t seem to matter to him. And if they do haul you in again? Let me know and I’ll get my lawyer friend down here.”

“I can’t afford no fancy lawyer?”

“You won’t need to. He’ll do it just to make them squirm, he’s kind of a dick like that.”

“Well… thanks man. I owe you one.”

Stiles gave him a grin and climbed into his jeep, taking a moment to breathe in air that didn’t smell like burnt coffee. He could feel a small burst of warm energy buzzing under his skin from his interference and he had to push it down to keep his eyes from changing. Once he was satisfied he’d got it under control, he started the engine and trundled off down the road.

Inside the station, Andy watched him go. He was furious. Not only had that punk Stackhouse managed to wiggle out of trouble again, now some jumped up kid was disrespecting him? And to make matters worse, once Bud had finished laying into him for how he’d acted, he’d threatened to stick him on desk duty doing the paperwork Rosie usually handled.

Disgruntled, Andy went to the computer and started searching for information on the town’s newest resident. Maybe Stackhouse and the kid were working together, they certainly seemed chummy. Stackhouse had an alibi for Rosie’s death but not the other two and the kid could cover himself for the first two but not Rosie’s. Yeah the coroner hadn’t confirmed her time of death yet so maybe it would fall during the time that the kid was with Ms Stackhouse, but this was too many coincidences for him to ignore.

The computer beeped. It hadn’t returned any official records for a Stiles Stilinski (of course the kid was using a fake name, Andy thought to himself) but it had brought up a missing person’s report with the name Stiles and a contact number in Beacon Hills, California.

Smiling to himself, Andy picked up the phone and dialed the Beacon Hills Police Department.

“Hello? Can I speak to the Sheriff please? It’s about Stiles Stilinski.”

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