“Aja’s been busy with school and work.”
“So I’m to believe a teenager, who has a record, and ran from a police officer when accused of a crime?” Officer Smith raised an eyebrow.
“Yes,” Aja huffed. “I did not steal anything.” An image of the forty dollars flashed in her brain. “I’m trying to finish school and make a little money so I can get the hell out of this pit town. I don’t have time for all this drama.”
“You need to come to the station so we can talk.”
“Fine. But I’m riding with you.”
Chapter 19
The police station was dull with green-tinted fluorescent lighting. For more than an hour, Aja had sat alone in a conference room with one-sided mirrors, wondering who was watching from the other side. She thought of the time wasted that she could have been finishing her homework while waiting. She wished her mom could come in and sit with her.
A door opened, and Officer Smith entered with a man dressed in a sport coat and khaki pants.
“Aja,” Officer Smith said. “This is Detective Powell; he wants to ask you a few questions.” They both took a seat.
“Where’s my mom?” Aja asked.
“She’s outside waiting,” Detective Powell answered. He put a manila file folder on the table in front of him but didn’t open it. “So do you want to tell me about Mrs. Poston’s jewelry?”
“If I knew something about it, I’d be happy to, but I don’t know what that old biddy is talking about.” Aja slumped back in her chair.
“Were you in her apartment?”
“Yes, when she ordered me in to help her get something off her shelf.”
“How did you know where the key was?” Officer Smith asked.
“The first time she asked me to help her with something she pulled the key out right in front of me.”
“So you’ve been there more than once?” the detective asked.
“Twice. Only when she’s demanded that I help her. Otherwise, I try to avoid her at all costs.”
“She said you were snooping through her things.”
“I was looking at pictures she had out. I asked her about them. That’s all.”
“Did you want to get to know her better, her habits, her schedule?” The easygoing demeanor of the detective began to harden.
Officer Smith sat and watched the interrogation.
“No. The only reason I’d want to know her schedule would be to avoid her.” Aja shot back.
“So you could break into her apartment when she wasn’t around.” His eyes became cold.
“Read my lips.” Aja met his gaze. “I did not steal from that pain-in-the-ass.”
Officer Smith tried to defuse the tension. “Aja, please, just answer the questions calmly.”
“Do you know what it’s like to be falsely accused?” Aja yelled. “That woman has been out to get me since I started working there.”
“Seems like a good place to make a dishonest living, preying on old, helpless people,” Detective Powell said. “Let’s look at your previous crimes.” He opened the folder and began reading. “Disorderly conduct, four years ago in Arizona.”
“The peace protest? I was at a sit-in with my mom, and we got hauled off by police with shields and sticks. It was stupid.” Aja remembered that afternoon. She was already mad at her mom because Aja had actually been invited to a birthday party at a skate rink. The whole eighth grade class was going. Always the new kid, she never got invited to parties and was so excited. Her mom was going to take her right after the protest. Instead, she spent the afternoon in a holding cell. A crushing day.
“Here’s another charge. You broke into a chicken pen and tried to steal the poultry?”
Aja wanted to laugh at that, but didn’t because when they were caught a group of the farmers leveled shotguns at them. She was fifteen and frightened out of her mind. “We weren’t going to steal them, just set them free. They were being treated inhumanely.” She sat up. “Those are juvenile records. How did you get them?”
“Just answer my questions.” He
“So I’m to believe a teenager, who has a record, and ran from a police officer when accused of a crime?” Officer Smith raised an eyebrow.
“Yes,” Aja huffed. “I did not steal anything.” An image of the forty dollars flashed in her brain. “I’m trying to finish school and make a little money so I can get the hell out of this pit town. I don’t have time for all this drama.”
“You need to come to the station so we can talk.”
“Fine. But I’m riding with you.”
Chapter 19
The police station was dull with green-tinted fluorescent lighting. For more than an hour, Aja had sat alone in a conference room with one-sided mirrors, wondering who was watching from the other side. She thought of the time wasted that she could have been finishing her homework while waiting. She wished her mom could come in and sit with her.
A door opened, and Officer Smith entered with a man dressed in a sport coat and khaki pants.
“Aja,” Officer Smith said. “This is Detective Powell; he wants to ask you a few questions.” They both took a seat.
“Where’s my mom?” Aja asked.
“She’s outside waiting,” Detective Powell answered. He put a manila file folder on the table in front of him but didn’t open it. “So do you want to tell me about Mrs. Poston’s jewelry?”
“If I knew something about it, I’d be happy to, but I don’t know what that old biddy is talking about.” Aja slumped back in her chair.
“Were you in her apartment?”
“Yes, when she ordered me in to help her get something off her shelf.”
“How did you know where the key was?” Officer Smith asked.
“The first time she asked me to help her with something she pulled the key out right in front of me.”
“So you’ve been there more than once?” the detective asked.
“Twice. Only when she’s demanded that I help her. Otherwise, I try to avoid her at all costs.”
“She said you were snooping through her things.”
“I was looking at pictures she had out. I asked her about them. That’s all.”
“Did you want to get to know her better, her habits, her schedule?” The easygoing demeanor of the detective began to harden.
Officer Smith sat and watched the interrogation.
“No. The only reason I’d want to know her schedule would be to avoid her.” Aja shot back.
“So you could break into her apartment when she wasn’t around.” His eyes became cold.
“Read my lips.” Aja met his gaze. “I did not steal from that pain-in-the-ass.”
Officer Smith tried to defuse the tension. “Aja, please, just answer the questions calmly.”
“Do you know what it’s like to be falsely accused?” Aja yelled. “That woman has been out to get me since I started working there.”
“Seems like a good place to make a dishonest living, preying on old, helpless people,” Detective Powell said. “Let’s look at your previous crimes.” He opened the folder and began reading. “Disorderly conduct, four years ago in Arizona.”
“The peace protest? I was at a sit-in with my mom, and we got hauled off by police with shields and sticks. It was stupid.” Aja remembered that afternoon. She was already mad at her mom because Aja had actually been invited to a birthday party at a skate rink. The whole eighth grade class was going. Always the new kid, she never got invited to parties and was so excited. Her mom was going to take her right after the protest. Instead, she spent the afternoon in a holding cell. A crushing day.
“Here’s another charge. You broke into a chicken pen and tried to steal the poultry?”
Aja wanted to laugh at that, but didn’t because when they were caught a group of the farmers leveled shotguns at them. She was fifteen and frightened out of her mind. “We weren’t going to steal them, just set them free. They were being treated inhumanely.” She sat up. “Those are juvenile records. How did you get them?”
“Just answer my questions.” He
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