felt so different.
“Maisie?”
I snapped back to reality, and the detective look at me expectantly. Turning red, I looked down at my fingers and began to pick at my nails.
“Sorry, I didn’t catch that.”
“Your name is Maisie Jones?” he repeated patiently.
“Yes.”
“Twenty eight years old, divorced?”
“Yes.”
“With a three-year-old son?”
“Obviously,” I snapped impatiently. “Look, I don’t matter. None of this matters! What matters is that you find Derek; this is a waste of time!”
He stared at me with sympathetic brown eyes, waiting until I calmed down a bit, and then he put his hand on top of mine.
“I understand your worry, Ms. Jones, but this is important. We have officers searching the area as we speak, but right now we need to know anything you can tell us.”
I pursed my lips, but didn’t say anything. He ran his hand through his thick, blond hair.
“My name is Detective Benjamin Jordan,” he said finally, resting both hands on the table. “I’m going to ask you a few questions, and I want you to tell me anything you can think of, okay?”
“Okay.”
“This is your bakery?”
“Yes, it’s called ‘Sugar Sweet.’”
“Do you own it with anyone else?”
“No, it’s just mine.”
“Why did you leave today?”
I looked up at the ceiling, trying to suppress the tears, trying to remember what had seemed important enough that I would leave my baby in the care of an employee.
“We were out of sugar and it was a busy day. I- I just ran out to the supermarket down the block. Jenna was here; I didn’t think anything would happen. I would never have left if I thought anything-”
“I know, Ms. Jones. No one thinks you’re a bad mother,” Detective Jordan assured me.
I do , I thought, but I didn’t say it out loud.
“You said you went out to buy sugar, but you had no sugar on you when you came back,” he continued, raising an eyebrow.
“Jenna called me right after she called the police; I just ran here.”
“You walked around for ten minutes and didn’t find the sugar?”
“No, I- what are you saying?” I stammered, looking at him incredulously.
“I’m saying that you’re the only one who was anywhere near the bakery at that time who doesn’t have an alibi.”
“I told you, I was at the groc-”
“We’ve talked to the clerk there, Maisie. He didn’t see you.”
“Well, of course not, I never made it to the checkout!” I nearly screamed, rising out of my chair.
He couldn’t think that I could have done anything, could he? Why would I hurt my little boy? He’s been my entire world since my husband left me. He’s everything I have. I sank bank into my chair, groaning. My entire world had flipped upside down over a bag of sugar, of all things.
“Look, we know you’re going through a lot, and everyone says you would never hurt your child,” he said gently, “but I’m afraid we can’t rule you out. I’m so sorry. We’re going to do our best to find your son.”
He stood up, reached into his jacket and put a card on the table.
“Maisie?”
I snapped back to reality, and the detective look at me expectantly. Turning red, I looked down at my fingers and began to pick at my nails.
“Sorry, I didn’t catch that.”
“Your name is Maisie Jones?” he repeated patiently.
“Yes.”
“Twenty eight years old, divorced?”
“Yes.”
“With a three-year-old son?”
“Obviously,” I snapped impatiently. “Look, I don’t matter. None of this matters! What matters is that you find Derek; this is a waste of time!”
He stared at me with sympathetic brown eyes, waiting until I calmed down a bit, and then he put his hand on top of mine.
“I understand your worry, Ms. Jones, but this is important. We have officers searching the area as we speak, but right now we need to know anything you can tell us.”
I pursed my lips, but didn’t say anything. He ran his hand through his thick, blond hair.
“My name is Detective Benjamin Jordan,” he said finally, resting both hands on the table. “I’m going to ask you a few questions, and I want you to tell me anything you can think of, okay?”
“Okay.”
“This is your bakery?”
“Yes, it’s called ‘Sugar Sweet.’”
“Do you own it with anyone else?”
“No, it’s just mine.”
“Why did you leave today?”
I looked up at the ceiling, trying to suppress the tears, trying to remember what had seemed important enough that I would leave my baby in the care of an employee.
“We were out of sugar and it was a busy day. I- I just ran out to the supermarket down the block. Jenna was here; I didn’t think anything would happen. I would never have left if I thought anything-”
“I know, Ms. Jones. No one thinks you’re a bad mother,” Detective Jordan assured me.
I do , I thought, but I didn’t say it out loud.
“You said you went out to buy sugar, but you had no sugar on you when you came back,” he continued, raising an eyebrow.
“Jenna called me right after she called the police; I just ran here.”
“You walked around for ten minutes and didn’t find the sugar?”
“No, I- what are you saying?” I stammered, looking at him incredulously.
“I’m saying that you’re the only one who was anywhere near the bakery at that time who doesn’t have an alibi.”
“I told you, I was at the groc-”
“We’ve talked to the clerk there, Maisie. He didn’t see you.”
“Well, of course not, I never made it to the checkout!” I nearly screamed, rising out of my chair.
He couldn’t think that I could have done anything, could he? Why would I hurt my little boy? He’s been my entire world since my husband left me. He’s everything I have. I sank bank into my chair, groaning. My entire world had flipped upside down over a bag of sugar, of all things.
“Look, we know you’re going through a lot, and everyone says you would never hurt your child,” he said gently, “but I’m afraid we can’t rule you out. I’m so sorry. We’re going to do our best to find your son.”
He stood up, reached into his jacket and put a card on the table.
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