"I'm not arrested," Richardson spouted back. "You can't send me to Jamesburg. And besides, I'm telling you, I did not break into that woman's house! I don't know what happened to her dorky kid, but I'll bet you she does!"
"Richardson, when you go to the chair, I'm pulling the switch!" Mrs. Creed's voice dive-bombed the place from across the hall. I almost pissed myself again at the sound of her voice. I shut my eyes and thought, God, do something here. Because I can't cope with this all by myself. Ali was wailing, Mrs. Creed was screeching, and my mom was talking about her taxes.
Mom stood up. She looked too calm and too slow in this storm. She turned and looked me dead in the eye and said, "You need to do two things: Stay calm, and keep her calm."
She did not look thrilled, and she said it like it was a military order. I reached down and bodily picked Ali up from her heap on the floor, dumping her back in the chair and keeping both arms around her so she wouldn't slither down again. I kept muttering "shhhh" to Ali as my mom walked toward the door to the room where Bo and Chief Bowen were. The door was open about halfway.
"Guys," she said in a calm voice that stopped Chief Bowen, "are you going to charge this boy with something or not?"
"What're you doing here, Susan?" Chief Bowen asked. He sounded annoyed. "Oh, that's right. We've got your son out there. Mrs. Hoffsteader saw him out her bay window, standing in front of the McDermotts', having a cigarette with this outstanding citizen here."
I wasn't smoking! climbed halfway up my throat, but in a haze I realized that being accused of smoking was a fart in a windstorm. My brain flashed back to that flickering curtain at the house next door to the Creeds'. It hadn't even registered that somebody was watching us. Stupid. I hoped I could straighten it out later.
"Are they being charged or not?" My mother's voice was edgy.
"What's your game, Susan?" Chief Bowen asked. "Are you representing one or both or neither of these young men? I think it's against the law to represent your own son; I'll have to check that one out."
"I'm not representing anyone," she said as casually as she could. "I just want to know how I can help get a move on here. It's late. These kids have school tomorrow."
I heard Chief Bowen sigh loudly. "Bring your son in here, Susan. And the McDermott girl. I wouldn't want your son to miss his bedtime. Tiny, take Mr. Richardson out, and please keep him away from Sylvia."
Tiny was, like, a 250-pound officer. We passed him and Bo in the doorway, and it was a squeeze. Bo just stared at the floor with those insane-looking black eyes, but I could see fear in them. He was coming across like machine-gun fire to Chief Bowen, but I knew he was just as scared as I was, or more scared. I noticed he still didn't have his shoes on. He must have been caught right there in the street. I could feel my mom's fingers pushing me in the back. I had won something with her, I just wasn't sure how much.
Like my mom had predicted, there was a chair turned over. I turned it upright and sat in it. Ali edged into the chair beside me, and my mom sat beside Chief Bowen, on the other side of the table. He looked from me to Ali, back to me again.
"That kid out there is not the type of person your parents would want you associating with," he said.
It was my turn to go crazy. I slumped back in the chair, then leaned forward again, pushing Ali, who was hollering that they didn't know the first thing about him.
"You know, everybody has their own little version of reality going here!" I yelled. "And it has nothing do to with what's true or not true—"
"Torey!" my mother hollered, staring at the table. "Remain calm."
I dropped back in the chair and began rubbing Ali's back, not caring that I was sniffing.
"This is an insanity-fest," I muttered. "This is crazy. And it's not all Bo."
"You see this?" Chief Bowen picked up a huge file that was sitting in front of him. "It's twenty pages long, and it's Richardson's file. He's a thief. And a liar. And an upstart. It's obvious from this file that he's not particularly good at thieving. Lying? I would say he's an ace. Now, there was a very unusual phone call made to the Creeds tonight. If you kids know something about that—and something about the disappearance of Chris Creed—and you are protecting Mr. Richardson—"
"Bo doesn't know anything!" Ali whined. "None of us does!"
"Well, somebody made that phone call to the Creeds tonight, and I'm praying that it wasn't either of you," he said, eyeing Ali, then me. His voice got sort of friendly.
"Whoever made that phone call is in serious trouble. Somebody either knows where Chris Creed is or they've committed a harassment crime that takes the grossest form of mental cruelty. The Creeds have lost a child. Their pain and suffering are not to be understood by you. But that doesn't mean a judge wouldn't understand it. If the caller was perceived as a 'spoiled little rich kid,' that family could pay quite a bit. Don't count on having any money to go to college with. And that just covers the penalty for harassment. The caller asked for money. That's extortion. Extortion is a very serious crime, far more serious than harassment. Extortion has sent a number of kids to Jamesburg. Skip Egg Harbor; do not pass Go."
I got this hope that he was exaggerating the truth to scare us. I shot a glance at my mom. She just sat frozen in the chair like she was determined not to show any emotion. I couldn't read anything from her at all. Extortion. Jail. No college. I couldn't even get my brain to consider the words that were banging through my head.
"So..." Chief Bowen leaned into the table and spoke in a low voice. "This is critical. I need you two to tell me that the caller wasn't either of you."
The peaceful grin on his face floated in front of my eyes. Something about it was making my stomach knot up.
Ali broke in with a shaky voice. "What ... makes you think it was any of us?"
He cleared his throat. "Normally in this type of situation, it's me asking the questions, not you," he said softly, jerking his eyes to the door like the other officers might hear him. "But I'm not out to make criminals out of the kids my children were raised with, all right?"
He leaned in like he was telling us some big secret and doing us a huge favor.
"I got a call from the Creeds about an hour ago. They were calling from the ball field, and said Sylvia had just taken a phone call for them to go there. The caller was supposed to give them some information about Chris and told her not to call the police. When they got to the ball field, no one was there. They called me from their car phone. I sent Tiny to check out the ball field and told them I would meet them at their house. I pulled up right behind them, and the Richardson kid was coming across the street toward your house, Ali. He was out of breath. He's not from these parts."
He sat up straight, took a deep breath, then leaned into us again.
"Now, I can't help it if the two of you have decided that he holds some sort of charm. We think it was a little suspicious that a kid with a record nine miles long is in the neighborhood just when all this is happening. He denies having broken in. He could be lying. He could have broken in. Mrs. Hoffsteader, the elderly lady who lives next door to the Creeds, came out and said she saw Torey and Bo Richardson come out of your house and stand on the curb, Ali. They were having a conversation and staring at the Creeds' house."
"Was anything missing?" my mother asked.
"Sylvia doesn't think so. We think the kid probably wanted to break in and didn't have enough time. He was either running back from the ball field or looking for a way to break in and wasn't finding it. Her other two children claim not to have seen or heard anything. So breaking and entering is not an issue. But this phone call is. So, please. Tell me it wasn't either of you."
He looked that way again. Kind of smiley. I got his message this time and almost got sick.
"What? You want us to pin it on him?" I jerked my thumb at the door.
Chief Bowen's eyes widened a little, but his little smirk didn't disappear. "I want you to tell me it wasn't you."
I stared at him, trying to tell myself I was dre
aming this, I was reading him wrong. He wanted us to say it was Bo, even if it wasn't true, just so his kids' best friends would be off the hook. Just so he wouldn't put his friends, my mom and Mrs. McDermott, through anything. That smirky grin on his face didn't change. Something came screaming up my throat along the lines of, You can go fuck yourself, and my mom must have sensed it coming.
"Torey!" She stood up and her chair flew backward, making both me and Ali jump. She swallowed and looked from Chief Bowen back to me again, shaking her head. "He's not answering any questions here and now, Daryl. I'm sorry."
Chief Bowen was slightly overweight. The roll of flesh around his collar turned bright red. "Susan, please don't do this. I'm only trying to—"
"I know. I appreciate it, but..." She looked at me hard, like, Keep quiet. You're too young to understand, you moron. "Daryl, I want to speak to you in private."
Chief Bowen waved us out, staring at the table. I backed out, watching their faces the whole time. My mom wasn't looking at me. I think she was ashamed of herself or something.
Out in the hall, I saw Bo sitting in one of the chairs in the row, studying the floor. I sat down next to him, and Ali sat on the other side. She was still crying, and he wrapped his arms around her. Mrs. Creed was wailing, and the deputy stuck his head in the door and yelled at her to calm down.
Bo muttered, "You guys, you have to let me take the fall for this."
"Why?" I demanded in a whisper.
"Because. At some point they will question you, and you will never hold up. You've never been in trouble before, and I have. And besides. They're going to pin Creed on me. I'm going down, anyway—"
"It's nowhere near that bad!" I muttered. "They can't! My mom will help you—"
"Yeah, right." He laughed. After a minute he kissed Ali on the side of the head and got up. He marched in on my mom and Chief Bowen without even knocking. They both blew him a few lines of grief, but he just shut the door. I couldn't hear a word they were saying. A phone rang, and I heard Chief Bowen talking loudly. I sat there, helpless, thinking Bo was confessing or something. I was afraid to charge the door and stop him, for fear that wasn't what he was doing. I just sat there comforting Ali, thinking whatever happened, I could straighten it put with my mom later.
A few minutes later my mother came out. "Come on," she said. "I'm taking you two home."
I stood up, but Ali grabbed both sides of her chair like she was glued there. I realized my mom had said you two and not you three. My mom tried to pull her up by the arm, but Ali kept crying out that he was a sweet person, and my mom didn't even try one of those speeches on her about being stupid.
"He's not going to Jamesburg, I promise," my mom said. She crossed her heart as Ali froze, watching her suspiciously.
"So, why can't he leave with us?" She sniffed. "Are they charging him with something?"
"Juvenile delinquency." My mom put a hand on Ali's shoulder and explained quickly, before Ali could freak. "Before you came out of your house tonight, he gave the police a hard time. He shoved an officer he thought was trying to search him illegally, though the officer was just trying to steer him to the—"
"I know, I was watching out the window." Ali sniffed some more.
"At this point, they're very tired of his lack of respect. He'll have to be released to his mother or some other responsible party."
Ali let out a sick laugh when she heard his mother referred to as a "responsible party." My mother just went on.
"So, this is not serious, not directly related to Chris Creed. We don't have to worry about that tonight."
I didn't like the "tonight" part, though I thought it may have gone over Ali's head. I also remembered Bo talking about his mom going on these five-day binges, and I hoped she was around tonight.
My mom patted Ali's back, watching her in a mysterious way. "You really like that boy in there, don't you?"
Ali cast her a suspicious glance but kept gripping the arms of the chair, like she wasn't leaving Bo.
"He asked me to go by your house and pick up your little brother, and then take the two of you to our house. Bo said he's afraid of your mother's boyfriend."
I wondered, with horror, if Bo had spilled the whole story to her. Whatever—my mom was starting to look like she saw some good in him. I figured she had to be blind otherwise. They're looking to detain the kid, and the first thing he wants to say is: Protect my girlfriend and her kid brother from her mother's pervert boyfriend.
"Come on, I told him you were coming home with me," my mom said. "He's not being charged with anything serious right now. I promise."
My mom smiled like she was trying to be nonchalant as she helped Ali up, but I knew her, knew she was thinking that Bo deserved her help.
Ali didn't look thrilled, and she was still crying. But she came with us.
I followed them out, still not liking my mom's choice of words, "...not being charged with anything serious right now."
Eleven
Ali's mom wasn't even home. It looked like she had gone out with that Albert guy after Bo raised that stink. So picking up Greg and just leaving a note was not a major problem. It was about eleven o'clock, and Greg flung himself sleepily into the car. Ali had packed two backpacks, one for her and one for Greg.
My mom just drove on in silence. When we got back to the house, she took Greg up to the spare bed in my room, and me and Ali wandered into the kitchen. Ali looked completely dazed. Her eyes were really swollen as they swept around the kitchen.
"I haven't slept over here since, like, third grade," she said with an absent laugh. "Remember how we would string burglar traps across the bedroom door frames? God. Funny how things change. Now we're the criminals."
Her grin faded away to nothing, and I said I didn't think we were criminals. She just flopped into a chair and didn't answer me. My mom came in and sat at the table. Her tired eyes glared.
"You guys have about two seconds to start spilling it."
"Mom, the story is so long and so complicated..." I stumbled. I mean, what do I tell her? About Ali's mom? About Bo helping Ali and Greg with the pervert? About Mrs. Creed searching her kid's room like she was scared for herself? It was all a part.
My mom was watching Ali, and she sighed. "Look. I do understand one thing." Her jaw bobbed up and down a couple times. "You know how you kids hear about every other kid's business in school? For example, you know who goes out with whom, who's in hot water with whom, who cheated on a test, and all that? And while you know all these things, you think the teachers are oblivious to it?"
We both sort of nodded.
"Well, the grown-up world is the same way. We know which grown-ups go out with whom, who's in hot water with their neighbors, who is living differently than they used to. And you guys are sort of oblivious to it. Okay?"
Ali's eyes moved from the table to my mom, and they stared at each other for a minute.
"I just want you to know that we know more than you think, and your staying here isn't a problem," my mom said.
I didn't know what Richardson had added to the info my mom was hinting about. I knew he had added something, or Ali wouldn't be here.
"Do you want me to be able to help Bo?" my mom asked Ali.
"Yes," Ali mumbled
"Then you need to be honest. You need to tell me what you know about him, how close your relationship is, if he's in any way involved in the disappearance of—"
"He's not involved, I swear it!" Ali said. "He was with me when Chris disappeared. He doesn't want to say that right now. But I'll say it, if the cops start suspecting him—"
"You may have to," my mother informed her. "He told the police he was alone after school that day. Why did he lie?"
"He just..." Ali squirmed. "There's been this rumor that I've been going out in the woods after school and doing it with somebody. We weren't doing anything out there except walking and talking. But I have this reputation. Some people think I'm a slut. He..."
She trailed off awkward
ly, but my mom picked up kind of quick. "He doesn't think you'd be a very credible alibi."
Ali blinked at her a few times and said, "I guess."
I waited for my mom to show some surprise about Ali's rep or give her some parenting type of look. She just stared at the edge of the table with her arms crossed.
Finally she said, "Your reputation isn't a concern. If you say you were with him, whatever you were doing, or have done in your past, is not relevant. The bigger problem is, he's already lied. Not on the record, but it still would have sounded more credible if he had told the truth from the start." I watched my mom staring, her mind working like a calculator. I guessed this was her lawyer side. I was so used to the mom side that it made me stare, too.
"So, you're saying the police suspect him?" Ali asked.
My mom shrugged. "They don't have any evidence. Not yet, but—"
"They won't have any evidence! He didn't do anything! I just said he was with me!" Ali whined.
"He was with you at the time Chris disappeared. If for some reason they come to believe that Chris is dead, there's still no body. There's no saying what time he died. It's complicated." She sighed. "How long have you known this boy? Can you think of any reason I'm unaware of that the police might connect him with this—"
"I haven't known him long, but I know him well," Ali insisted. She laid her head down on the table and talked in a dead voice. "I had seen him around school, but we don't usually talk to boons, so I had never talked to him. First time I ever talked to him was at the Wawa about three weeks ago. I was standing there alone, and he was, too, so we just started saying stuff. He was mad at his mom because she had just showed up after some five-day drinking binge or something. He laid it all out for me, didn't hold back. And so I found myself laying my mom out to him. Well, sort of. I told him how she always had boyfriends, and how my dad had found out and left. I didn't tell him how bad it had gotten. But still, the stuff I told him didn't shock him or anything. I never met anybody before that I felt could look at my life and not hold it against me."