“She was here with us,” Mom said immediately. There was a mixture of anger and panic in her voice.
“We'd prefer it if Miss Belgarden would answer the questions.”
“Why? Do you think my mother is lying?” Even as the angry words came out of my mouth I realized that what my mom had told them wasn't exactly the truth. I was sure she hadn't told a deliberate lie, but the fact was I
hadn't
been home for the whole two hours in question.
“No one is suggesting any such thing,” the kindly officer said hastily. “It's just procedure.”
My stomach churned. I was debating whether or not I should explain that I'd been out for the afternoon with Greg and had arrived home late for dinner. It had been well past five-thirty when I'd gotten home that night. But if I told them, they'd surely wonder why my mother had said something different.
“So, Miss Belgarden, were you here with your family on Sunday evening between five and seven?”
“Yes.” Panic had swept over me, and I couldn't think straight. It seemed best to just agree with what Mom had said. I regretted it the second I'd said it, though, because the hateful officer's eyes lit up as if I'd just given him a huge gift.
“You're sure about that?”
“She answered your question,” Mom snapped. I wished she'd stayed quiet.
“Well, that's interesting, because we have two witnesses who place your daughter and another party walking through town between five and five-thirty.”
Mom's face changed from anger to fear. She looked at me as if I'd tricked her somehow, which was hardly fair considering she was the one who'd been so determined to insist I'd been home.
I tried to explain it then, how I'd been out with Greg and we'd lost track of the time and it might have been later than I remembered when I got home for dinner. My words came out in a jumbled rush, stumbling over each other. It sounded as though I was lying, even to
me
, and I knew it was all true!
That was when the officers said that they'd like to take me to the police station for a few more questions. My mom protested, but there seemed nothing to do but go with them. She was getting her jacket to come along when my father came in from work. His face turned serious as Mom quickly explained what was happening.
“I'll go with Shelby,” he told Mom. “You call our lawyer and have her meet us at the police station.”
Our lawyer? I didn't even known we
had
a lawyer. And I certainly didn't think I needed one. But I said nothing and began to follow the police to their waiting car, which they'd parked out of sight around the corner. I figured they didn't want to alert me that they were there, in case I took off like some big criminal. Dad
stopped me and told me to come with him, which I could see annoyed the officers.
To my utter amazement, Dad stopped at a drive-through and ordered us cheeseburgers and fries on the way.
“Eat up,” he said calmly. “Who knows how long we'll be tied up with this nonsense, and neither one of us has had our dinner.”
Food was the last thing on my mind and I was sure I could never eat a bite, but I stuck a fry in my mouth to be polite and found I was suddenly ravenous. I guess nervousness can make you really hungry sometimes.
We finished eating and then drove to the police station. The two officers looked really annoyed when Dad explained why we were late getting there.
“Can't have the little one starving,” Dad said smoothly. His cool, unperturbed manner was starting to calm me too. “Besides, we'll be waiting for Ms. Hill to get here before we begin.”
“Well, that's up to you, of course. But I think you should know we have the other party here as well. If anyone wants to cut a deal, it's strictly first come first serve.”
Other party
? I realized he meant Greg and wondered if he was here alone or if his father was with him. I sure wouldn't have wanted to be facing this without my dad!
Ms. Hill arrived about fifteen minutes after us, and I was astonished at the way she breezed in, looking for all the world as if she was delighted to be there. I'd have thought a lawyer should look a bit more solemn, but she smiled and chatted briefly with everyone before telling the police she wanted a few moments alone with her client.
Apparently, that was me! I went with her into a small room with a wooden table and four chairs.
“Okay, Shelby, we're going to talk to the police in a couple of minutes. Here are the rules. You let me speak at all times. Answer nothing, say nothing. Got it?”
“I didn't do anything wrong,” I blurted, surprised that she hadn't even asked me that.
“Yes, well, good then.” The way she said that sounded as if it was the least important thing in the world to her. I guess everyone claims they're innocent, so maybe she didn't tend to put much stock in such remarks.
“I really didn't!”
She smiled at me then and there was a twinkle in her eyes. “This has very little to do with guilt or innocence, my dear. What's happening is that the police are conducting an investigation. For whatever reason, they think you may be involved in a crime. Our job is to make sure we don't help them.”
“I already told them the truth,” I said bitterly. “They just don't believe me.”
“Well, this is the way things are, sugar. They're trying to get a case together. To do that, they need to build up evidence. You could say the most innocent thing in the world, which could then be turned around to sound as if you're guilty. That's why you let me talk. They're gathering evidence, and we sure as shootin' aren't going to provide them with any.”
A moment later we were all seated around a bigger table in another room.
“Well, boys,” Ms. Hill tossed a smile around the room, “I've had a chance to speak to my client. She has no knowledge or involvement in this matter. And that's about it.”
“We have a few questions for Miss Belgarden,” one of the officers said dismally. It seemed he knew what was coming next.
“And you know, we'd love to help you out, but as I said, my client doesn't know a darned thing.” Another smile, accompanied by what seemed to be a helpless shrug. “Naturally, in light of that, I've advised Miss Belgarden not to talk to you. Nor will you attempt to speak with her at any time in the future unless I am present.”
“I think you should know that we're questioning another youth at this time,” the other officer said threateningly. “We can only offer a deal to one of these young people, so if he speaks first, your client is out of luck.”
Rather than looking worried over this, Ms. Hill laughed right out loud and said, “Well, I sure hope he has an attorney. You boys are obviously grasping at straws, so we'll be off now.”
She stood and snapped up her briefcase. Dad and I followed her to the parking lot. Our feet had barely landed on the pavement when she whirled around to face me.
“This other kid, is there anything, and I mean
anything
, he might tell them that would suggest either of you are involved in this thing?”
“No! We're
not
involved!” I was shocked at the question, considering how confident she'd seemed only seconds ago. Now it looked as if she doubted me.
“Excellent! That's what I thought, kiddo, but I have to ask.” She patted my arm, told Dad to call any time we needed her, and hurried off.
Dad put his arm around my shoulders and gave me a squeeze.
“Let's go home and calm down your poor mother.”
When we got back home, Mom threw her arms around me and went on and on about her “poor baby.”
“How could they do this to you?” she almost sobbed. She told us that the few hours we'd been gone had seemed like days and that she'd been losing her mind with worry.
“Now, now, there's nothing to worry about, dear,” Dad said, putting his arms around the two of us. “Shelby has promised me that she's going to give up her life of crime.”
“That's not funny, Randall!”
I giggled, but inside I was worried about Greg. I'd heard that the police are allowed to lie in order to trick people into confessions. What if they told Greg I had said something about him? Would he know they were making it up?
My fears were allayed a few hours later when he showed up at our house.
“Looking for your partner in crime, are you?” I heard my father's voice at the door.
I flew down the hallway and gave Dad a quick poke in the ribs, just to let him know I'd heard what he'd said. Then I hugged Greg, not caring who was watching.
“Hey.” His smile made my insides all mush. “I just came by to see if you were all right. I understand they brought you in for questioning too.”
I told him about my experience with the police and how Ms. Hill had stopped them cold. Greg seemed impressed at that, and admitted that he had given them a statement.
“I hope it wasn't a mistake,” he said reflectively. “I assumed that if I cooperated they'd know I had nothing to hide. But it sounds as if your lawyer wouldn't agree with what I did.”
“What I can't figure out is why they wanted to talk to
us
.”
“Guilt by association, I guess. They must have learned that you and I are Amber's friends. Or they might think she probably told us something and that treating us like suspects too would make us rat her out.”
I sighed. “It's already been hard enough at school without this. When word gets around that we were taken in for questioning things will only get worse.”
“And we're still just on the sidelines of this whole thing,” Greg pointed out softly. “Think of what it's like for Amber. She's the one who's affected the most.”
I knew he was right, but a part of me was starting to resent her for all the trouble. It wasn't fair or reasonable to feel that way, but I couldn't help it. I almost wished I'd never even heard the name Amber Chapman. I found it hard to sympathize with her position, especially since I wasn't fully convinced of her innocence. I needed evidence one way or the other.
That thought gave me an idea.
“Where's your dad tonight?”
“He was in town getting groceries when I got home from school. In fact, he doesn't even know about what happened this evening, since he wasn't there when the police came and picked me up. I didn't want to alarm him so I just left a note saying I'd be back soon.”
“I want to talk to him.” Dr. Taylor is a psychologist and he'd been helpful to me before. “Can we go to your place?”
“Sure, if you want to.”
I went to tell Mom and Dad (who'd miraculously given us some privacy) where I was going, and then slipped on my jacket and shoes.
It was a cold evening and we walked quickly. As we were turning down the street Greg lives on he stopped and turned toward me.
“You'd think a guy could get a kiss after going through a brutal police interrogation.”
I was only too happy to comply. His nose was cold on my face, but I didn't mind.
“You know, that wasn't very thoughtful of me,” he said afterward. “After all, you've just been through the same trauma. You probably need comfort too.”
“I do,” I nodded solemnly. “I know I had a lawyer and all, but she called me things like âsugar' and âkiddo.' It was
awful
.” In fact, I'd liked her friendly way of talking, but telling him that wasn't going to get me anywhere.
“How you must have suffered.” His lips were on mine then, and I can truly say I felt adequately comforted.
“Were the police really brutal to you?” I asked after we'd resumed walking.
“Actually, they were pretty decent. I guess they were just doing their jobs.” He smiled. “I suppose you want your kiss back now that you know I got it under false pretences.”
I would have liked to say yes, but we were in sight of his house by then and that made me feel shy. I told him I'd let him off this time, but he'd better watch himself from now on. He didn't seem too alarmed.
Dr. Taylor was in the book room, reading an old-looking volume called
Horace Walpole's England
. He
set it aside and listened with interest as we told him what had happened to us that evening.
“It does sound as though they're digging for something solid against Amber,” Dr. Taylor said when we'd finished filling him in. “Unfortunately, as long as their investigation is focused in her direction, there's a danger that they'll overlook things that may point to someone else.”
“That's why I wanted to talk to you,” I told him. “I was wondering what kind of person would commit a robbery like that.”
“From a psychological point of view?” He nodded. “Well, I appreciate the compliment of you asking me, but I don't know how much help I can be. People steal for different reasons, so they don't fall into a nice, tidy category.”
“What reason would someone have for stealing, aside from the fact that they want something?”
“It's a mistake to think people steal primarily to obtain something. In fact, that's one of the less common reasons. And those are generally crimes of impulse, where they see an item they want and grab it. A planned theft has a deeper purpose. A robbery is planned out, and the objective is clearly money.”
“So, the thefts at school would be impulsive?”
“I wouldn't say that either. They needed a certain amount of planning too, making sure no one
was around, finding out where particular items were kept and so on. No, I'd say that the thief at your school had a purpose in mind. If the items that were taken all had value, it's likely they were sold to obtain cash.
“I think the question you're really asking is
why
this person is stealing,” he continued. “And you've decided that the thefts at school and the robbery were committed by the same person.”