His grip was firm, but not tight. “You need to stay to make a statement for the police. And we all need to file reports about what the robbers stole from us.”
“I don’t,” I said. “He only stole a kiss from me, and I don’t want it returned.”
The guy’s dark brown eyes turned piercing. “Tansy, you need to stay and talk to the police.”
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I pulled my arm away from him. “I think we’ve already estab-lished that I don’t like talking to the police.”
“It will look worse if you leave,” he said.
“No, it will look worse if my father has to come down to the police station two nights in a row to pick me up.” I walked out the door without looking back at him.
• • •
I don’t know why I thought Mr. Hot Police Officer would keep my name out of it. When I got home, a police car was parked in front of my house. I should have stayed at the Walgreens and saved myself the bike trip back. My thighs burned from all of the pedaling. I groaned and leaned my bike up against the side of the house. An officer sat in the car. He reported something into his car radio, then climbed out and followed me up the walkway.
When I got inside, my parents and another officer were standing in the living room talking. My father’s face was taut with anger, his hands clenched into fists. He spoke to me, shooting each word out sharp and whole. “You were grounded. You were supposed to stay in your room.”
I couldn’t very well tell him I had been out trying to stop Robin Hood from plundering the city. I also couldn’t tell him, with the police officers staring at me, that my fairy godmother had zapped them here on my command. “Sorry,” I said.
He waited for me to say more. I didn’t. It was pathetically lacking as an apology, but I didn’t know how to spruce it up without ending up in a padded cell.
The younger of the two police officers stepped forward. His red hair had been cropped short in what was nearly a crew cut. He held up 83/356
a clipboard to take notes and regarded me suspiciously. “You were at the Walgreens that was held up?”
I nodded.
“Do you have any idea where the criminals are now?”
“No.”
“Have you ever seen them before?”
I nearly told them no, then remembered Chrissy’s warning that I couldn’t lie or lights would go off around me announcing the fact. It would be hard to explain that sort of thing right now. “I saw them on the news earlier today,” I said. It was, after all, the truth.
“Why did the men know your name?”
“I ran into them in the parking lot before they went inside, and I told them my name.” Also the truth.
The police officer raised an unbelieving eyebrow at me. “You saw a bunch of men you knew were dangerous criminals, and you went up to them in a parking lot and told them your name?”
“I was trying to convince them not to rob the Walgreens,” I said.
“Uh-huh.” The police officer pursed his lips, and I could tell this wasn’t going well. “We’ll need you to come down to the station so we can get a formal statement.”
Chrissy was right. Telling the truth was way overrated.
I shook my head. “I’m not going with you.” Sandra said, “Tansy, I think—”
I wouldn’t let her finish. I’d had enough of the police. “I’m not saying anything else. It isn’t illegal to talk to people in a parking lot, so they can’t arrest me for that. I didn’t do anything wrong tonight.” The older officer crossed his arms. “Maybe you folks need to have a talk with your daughter about cooperation and then get back to us.” He sent me a slow, intimidating stare. “Armed robbery is a felony. This isn’t a game, young lady.”
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The officers turned and went to the door. Sandra followed them, apologizing for my behavior, telling them I normally wasn’t like this.
“Our family is going through a hard time right now,” she said.
My father didn’t move. He shook his head as though answering some question only he heard. “You didn’t do anything wrong tonight?”
“I’m sorry,” I said again.
“You were grounded and you went out consorting with criminals.” I didn’t answer. I wasn’t sure what consorting meant. Maybe it was time I started reading again. My vocabulary needed some refreshing.
“I don’t even know who you are,” my dad went on. He said the words quietly, but so forcefully it felt like he’d yelled them. “Just go to your room.”
I turned and walked down the hallway. He was right. He didn’t know who I was.
Chapter 6
On Sunday, a repairman came and put in a new window in my bedroom. Then another guy came over and set up an alarm system in the house. The weekend rate had probably cost my dad extra. He didn’t tell me the alarm code, and I didn’t ask. I knew he had ordered the alarm so I wouldn’t be able to leave the house at night without setting it off.
Dad hardly spoke to me all day, and Sandra sent me disappointed looks that didn’t change no matter how many times I said I was sorry.
And I said it a lot. Apparently repeating the word multiple times didn’t make me any better at apologies.
Nick, fortunately, was nice. When he saw me checking the Internet for news of more hold-ups, he told me he had a friend who had access to police scanners. Nick called his friend, then gave me the up-date: that afternoon the medieval bandits had robbed the Village Inn and made off with several boxes of sausages, all the pies in the dessert case, and an assortment of silverware. Robin Hood probably didn’t realize it wasn’t made from real silver.
I was glad no one was hurt, but it was just a matter of time. I had to get things straightened out with Chrissy.
• • •
Monday morning, instead of riding on the back of Bo’s motorcycle to school, I sat in the passenger seat of Nick’s beat-up old Camry. As we went through the school lobby, I was glad for his company. He was proof I had one friend. Even if Nick had been forced into the position when our parents married.
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Everyone stared at me. They probably knew about my weekend. I tried not to meet their eyes. I especially didn’t want to see Bo or any of his friends. I was mad that Bo wasn’t sorry for what he’d done and mad that he hadn’t given me a chance to explain, but mostly I was mad that after all my debating as to whether I should break up with him, he had dumped me first.
Eventually Nick and I split up to go to our lockers. As I walked down the hallway, I picked up bits and pieces of the conversations around me. Someone said the word “criminal.” Were they talking about Robin Hood, Bo, or me? Or perhaps the homework load our teachers gave us?
It was going to be such a long day and such a long week.
I rounded the corner and saw Bo leaning against my locker. He was scowling, which probably meant he wasn’t there to apologize. I let out a sigh. I wasn’t in the mood for this.
I walked up and slid my backpack off my shoulder. “Hi, Bo.” He stepped close to me, leaning down so his face was inches away from mine. His eyes flared with indignation. “Why did you turn us in to the police?”
I spun the first number on my locker combination. “Oh, I don’t know. It had something to do with the fact that you left me at a crime scene, and then the police handcuffed me, dragged me down to jail, and threatened to pin the whole thing on me.” I could have told him the police tricked me into telling his name, but suddenly I didn’t want to. His anger made me wish I had turned him in on purpose.
“You’re such a—” He finished the sentence, but the word was muted when he punched my locker. “We did it for you, and this is what we get? I have a two-thousand-dollar fine and a court date.” 87/356
I turned to face him. “You did it for me? Really? Because I remember asking you to stop. And what about the other buildings you vandalized? Those weren’t for me. You just like to destroy things.”