SNOW GLOBE (11 page)

It took more than an hour to get close to her subdivision. She was starving, sweating and exhausted. At her house, she saw a police car parked in front. Too tired to face them, she decided to backtrack and go into a grocery store nearby and see if she could borrow someone’s cell phone to call her mom.

Walking into the store, Aja looked around for a friendly face. A security guard took note of her and began to follow.

Damn, damn. Do I look like a criminal?
Aja wondered. Then realized she was dirty and smeared with mud from her creek trek. She dug in her pockets for money and only came up with three dollars and some change. Aja headed to the deli counter, suddenly craving a turkey and cheese sandwich on a crusty French roll. She ordered just enough meat and cheese to make a sandwich but stay under the three bucks. After she paid, she went to the little café there and made a sandwich. Her mouth watered as she globbed mayo on the bread. She piled on the meat and cheese and wrapped it in a napkin. She couldn’t wait to take a crunchy bite but when she noticed the security officer still eyeing her, she decided to eat outside.

She threw her shoulders back and walked right past him. He didn’t say anything but followed a few paces behind. He left her after she exited the store.

By now the scent of the bread was making Aja’s tummy grumble. She went to sit on a bench, but it was already occupied by a homeless man. More ragged and dirty than Aja.

“Got any spare change?” the man asked.

Aja reached in her pocket. Thirteen cents. “It’s all I have.”

“You keep it.” The man said, eyeing Aja’s sandwich.

Aja hesitated. No, not the sandwich. But the man was so thin. Who knew when his last meal was? She looked longingly at the turkey and cheese falling from the bread and handed the man the sandwich.

“Nah, really?” he asked.

“Yeah, whatever, go ahead.” Aja then wished she’d at least torn it in half.

The man took the sandwich. “Thanks,” he said as he hurriedly walked away, biting a hunk of bread as he left.

“Well, wasn’t that a nice gesture. I didn’t think you had it in you.”

Aja recoiled at the voice. Dumpster Dempsey.

“Those homeless people are vermin though. You shouldn’t feed them or give them money. You’ll just encourage them.” Dempsey pulled her large purse over her shoulder protectively. “You look like you’ve been rolling in the mud too.”

Aja was pissed. She’d given up her perfect sandwich, was on the run again, and seeing the Dumpster just added fuel to the fire. “That was my dad,” Aja shot back. “Since he had to work late, I brought him his dinner.”

Dempsey’s eyes widened.

“Mom sends her love,” Aja yelled at the lingering dust cloud the man had left.

“Aja, you’re not homeless. Your mom is the psychic. You live where that hand waves from the front yard,” Dempsey said, but seemed just a tad unsure now.

Aja was tempted to ask to use the woman’s phone, but she didn’t want a barrage of questions or for her to eavesdrop and realize Aja was on the lam again. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.” She turned and stormed off.

Aja hung around the parking lot, hoping to see someone else she knew. No luck. The only familiar face was the security guard, who by now had spotted Aja trolling around the lot.

She was sick of running. Sick of everything. She hadn’t done anything wrong, yet felt guilty. It was dark now so Aja decided to walk home. As she approached her driveway, she saw two police cars parked. The officer she recognized as Doug sprang from a car yelling, “There she is.” He crouched behind his car door as if Aja had a gun pointed at him.

She held her arms up mockingly. “Don’t’ shoot, I’m unarmed.” Then she threw in, “And innocent.”

The other police car door opened and Freddy Kruger stepped out, slowly, deliberately. That scared Aja more than if he’d come screaming at her guns blazing.

“Get him away from me.” Aja screamed and started to back away.

The front door to her house opened and her mom ran out with the female officer from the other night, Officer Smith.

“Aja, are you all right?” her mom asked. “What is going on?”

“I was falsely accused of stealing, and this jerk was going to take me to God knows where.” She pointed at Freddy.

“You ran, makes you guilty to me,” Doug said, leaning against his car door.

“I ran, toad breath, because this guy scares the bejeezes out of me.” She pointed at Freddy.

“Aja, don’t talk like that,” her mom admonished.

“What? Bejeezes?”

“Let’s not make this worse,” her mom whispered.

Officer Smith walked to her. “Aja, you need to come to the station. You’ve been accused of a crime.”

“I didn’t do it.”

“Why did you run?”

“Because the police officer you sent was the guy stalking me. No way am I getting into a car with him.”

“Did you file a report?” Officer Smith asked.

“Not yet, we were going to do that soon,” her mom said. “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 glared at her. “Another disorderly conduct,” he went on, “against a city bus?”

“One of my mom’s friends was in a wheelchair and always had a hassle from the drivers to let her on, so we all stood in front the bus so he couldn’t drive away until she boarded. We did that one a few times,” she added with a tinge of pride in her voice.

Officer Smith interrupted. “Aja, did your mom take you along to all her causes?”

Aja shrugged. “I believed in her.” She thought again of missing the skate party and the giant Peace button ripping her new expensive shirt.

“Your mom’s a psychic?” Officer Smith asked.

Aja winced. “Yeah, and an artist. She sells her stuff.”

“Well, too bad she couldn’t see she was raising a criminal. Here’s a charge, after you turned eighteen, of breaking into a car?” Powell held up a document.

“Those charges were supposed to be dropped.” Aja said. “Someone left a dog in a hot car, and I tried to break the window out.”

“According to this, you succeeded.”

“Yeah, but the dog owner got in trouble, too, and she was supposed to drop the charges against me for a lesser fine against her.” Aja had tried to use her needle-nose pliers on the window with no luck. She’d found some workers parked in a pickup, and they used a hammer to shatter the glass. They left before the police got there. Aja told them she did it. The owner was more worried about her car than the dog.

“These are charges you were caught doing.” Powell made a show of fanning the documents at her. “Do you want to tell me about the ones you didn’t get caught with?”

“Why don’t you just get a rope, dude. Take me out back and string me up. This is Texas, ya’ll.” Aja gave a flippant wave of her hand. “Guilty until proven innocent.”

Officer Smith held out both arms, like a referee at a boxing match. “Detective, give me a few minutes with Aja.”

“You?”

“Please,” she said.

“I hope you can get her to tell you where the jewelry is.” He looked at Aja as he stood. “If I find out you’ve taken the stolen stuff to a pawn shop, you’ll be serving some time. You’re an adult now. No more hiding as a juvie.”

Aja met his eyes directly. “I didn’t steal her jewelry.” She hoped she sounded fiercer than she felt. Remembering the money she’d taken from Mrs. Dempsey, she looked away. Thankfully, no one had mentioned that.

As soon as he left, Officer Smith turned to her. “Aja, we don’t want to falsely accuse you of anything, but Bea Poston is insisting you did it. Not only did she see you in the halls after work, but other residents saw you.”

Aja sighed. “One of the residents lost his wife a few days ago. I’d helped him with her, and I felt bad and went to check on him.”

“That would be Leigh Jensen?”

Aja nodded.

“If you didn’t like Bea Poston, then why did you help her? You were off work, right?”

“I don’t know,” Aja shrugged. “She didn’t leave me much choice. She ordered me into her apartment, and I thought it would be easier to help than argue with her.” Aja had a strange sensation. She looked at the one-way mirror. “I don’t want that creepy officer Richards anywhere near me.” She continued to stare at the glass. She knew, without a doubt, he was on the other side. Watching her.

Chapter 20

Aja’s first and only paycheck was two hundred and fifty-eight dollars. She had to sign it over to the police station to make her three-hundred dollar bail. Her mom made up the rest. She still needed to pay Mrs. Burnett back, but again she had nothing. Three weeks of hard work poofed away for bail.

On the way home, her mom was silent, making Aja more uncomfortable. “I didn’t do it, Mom. You know I’m not a thief.”

“It’s so out of character for you, but I know you’ve been trying to raise money to move.” She glanced at Aja, then back to the road. “You know I’ll support you in anything.” She paused. “But stealing?”

“You? My own mom? You don’t believe me?” Aja asked incredulously. “That cuts hard.”

“I’m sorry. I do believe you. You are not a thief. At least not usually, but what about the forty dollars you took from that teacher?”

“That was payback for her saying those things. But it was wrong. I know that.” Aja looked at her mom. “It was the first time, and, I promise, the last.”