Chapter 22
Aja stood next to her mom’s car in the school parking lot. She’d started to take off and run home, but decided to wait in case that was the straw that got her tossed into the detention facility.
Her mom walked out of the building with Ms. Lewis and Mrs. Burnett. They approached Aja. Ms. Lewis looked pissed.
“Another stunt like that will get you your own bed in custody, young lady,” Ms. Lewis seethed.
“Don’t talk to my daughter like that.” Aja’s mom glared at the advocate. “I will take care of her, and I can assure you I’ll be riding you and your department’s ass. Aja has a voice, too. Probably like most of the teens you’ve incarcerated. Take time to listen to them and quit running your own mouth. You just might learn something.”
“I’ve learned that most of them lie through their teeth.” Ms. Lewis got back in Aja’s mom’s face.
“And I’ve learned there’s good in everybody.”
The two women were almost nose to nose when Mrs. Burnett stepped in. “Thanks Ms. Lewis. I promise to supervise Aja while she’s at school, and I’ll have a talk with Ms. Harmon, too. If there’s a problem, I’ll call you.” She glanced at Aja, who nodded.
“We will be keeping an eye on you,” Ms. Lewis snarled, staring at Aja. “If you’re not at home when an officer comes to check, I’ll personally bring you in.”
“Just keep Clay Richards away from me. Anybody else is welcome.” Aja hoped that her mom wasn’t hosting any more drawing classes soon.
When Aja and her mom pulled in their driveway, she saw her own car parked and Walker sitting on their porch. He stood, looking cute as ever, his dark hair offsetting his almond eyes. Aja turned away and thought how good he and Kendall looked together. Both of them tall, dark and ravishing. It bothered her that he had some pull over her. His ability to get along with everybody fascinated Aja. She was always ready to pull the trigger on distrust.
“Hey, Walker, thanks for bringing Aja’s car home,” her mom said
“Anytime.” He handed the keys to Aja. “Nice ride.”
“You two talked today?” Aja asked, miffed. “Glad you guys are such buds.”
“He offered to help,” Aja’s mom said, raising an eyebrow at her daughter. “Get off your grumpy-horse.”
“I called your mom to see if you were okay,” Walker said, though he kept a distance from Aja. “She asked if I could drive your car here.”
“I’m fine. Never better,” Aja shot back, slinging her book bag over her shoulder.
“What’s going on, Aja?” Walker whispered. “Mrs. Poston…” he didn’t finish.
Aja’s mom gave him a quick hug. “Stay for dinner?”
“Mom, probably not a good idea,” Aja answered for him.
Walker looked at Aja.
“You’re not afraid of those truant officers are you?” Aja’s mom asked.
“I’m tired. Falsely accused and apparently second in line to Kendall.”
Walker held up a hand. “Let’s leave her out of this.”
Aja walked around to the side of the car where he stood. Her mom hesitated, then said, “I’ll see you inside.”
Aja dropped her book bag on the driveway. “You know, you keep saying you’re not together, but every time I see you, she’s there.” She thought of the kitchen disaster where Aja was globbed with food and Kendall was all shiny, clean and bitchy.
“Her family is friends with mine and everybody wants to see us together—except me.” He put his hands in his jeans pockets. “My mom is beginning to come around, but she’s the only one. I hate to upset my grandparents, so I didn’t make a scene. Kendall is what I’m used to. Even though I’m trying to break from my safe life, I’m afraid of hurting anybody.”
“Well, I’m in a bit of a pickle anyway, so it’s probably best if you keep your distance from me.”
“Yeah, I heard.” He looked in her eyes as if asking the question.
“I didn’t do it.” Aja snipped. “I don’t know why that old woman hates me so much. She probably misplaced the jewelry and thought I should take the fall. Walker, can you please tell the Jensens I didn’t steal anything? Oh, and tell Dr. Landers that I’ll get the CD he burned for me. I hope Mr. Jensen’s daughters will be able to take care of their dad.” She looked at Walker. “I hate that everybody thinks I’m a thief. And tell Janie I’m innocent.”
“You promise me you’re not a thief?” he asked, doubt in his voice.
Aja stopped, shocked. “I don’t have to promise you anything,” Aja exploded. She grabbed her bag and stormed into the house. She made sure to slam the door hard to make her point.
Not two seconds later, the doorbell rang. Aja opened the door to see Walker standing on the porch holding her purse.
“You forgot this.”
Aja took the purse. “Thanks.” She stepped back to close the door but hesitated. “You haven’t known me long, Walker, but believe me, I am not a thief. I can be a smartass, but not a criminal.”
“It’s like you’re this really cool outlaw that keeps me intrigued. You’re everything I’m not.” He took a step back. “What about your jail time?”
She felt like she’d been slapped. “What do you know about that?”
He shrugged.
“Considering it’s a ‘sealed file,’ it sure seems like the whole world is in on my life. Ask Edna Jones or Clay Richards, or go talk to my school principal or counselor. Who knows, it might just make the papers tomorrow.”
Aja’s mom came to the door, drying her hands on a towel. “Walker, I’m making tofu and veggies for dinner. You sure you don’t want to stay?”
“Sounds delicious,” he said, as he shook his head. “Maybe another time.”
“Mom, maybe you could sit with Walker and tell him about all the times I’ve been in jail. Let him know what a real criminal I am.” Aja turned and stormed into her room.
“Whoa, what’s that about?” Aja heard her mom ask.
“I asked her about her being in jail.” Walker’s voice sounded muffled through Aja’s door. “I mean, between that and this jewelry thing.”
“You know, Walker, anything she’s done has been to help or fight a good cause. She should be proud of all she’s accomplished. I know I am.”
Aja had to crack her door a little to hear her mom.
“It seems like trouble follows her,” Walker said.
“Don’t be like the others who’ve judged her the wrong way.” Her mom paused. “Thank you for bringing her car. Let me take you home.”
Chapter 23
For the next two weeks Aja had Mrs. Burnett check her attendance after each class and she had to meet with Ms. Lewis two evenings a week. The woman was an awful bitch who asked Aja the same questions over and over as if trying to make Aja lie. Aja was weary of her life. At least her grades were excellent, much to Mrs. Dempsey’s chagrin.
Aja felt like a prisoner in her home. According to Ms. Lewis and Detective Powell, she had to be home by seven and only attend school during the day. Her mom fought them, saying Aja could do whatever she wanted to since no charges had been filed. But Aja was down to her last month before graduation and figured it was easier to comply.
“Don’t let them get to you. They are violating your rights. If you want to stay out until midnight you can.” Her mom steamed and huffed a lot, but didn’t make Aja go to any of the protests she tried to stage at the police station. Even her mom’s friends weren’t fighting this fight.
Janie called frequently to keep Aja up on all the gossip at Golden Leaves.
“Oh, man,” Janie said. “Mrs. Poston is still going on about you, telling the residents to check for missing valuables. She will not shut up about it.”
Aja’s stomach broiled. “It really hacks me off that she’s running around telling everybody that I’m guilty of something I didn’t do. Where does she get off?” Aja groused, and slammed her math book shut. She was not in the mood to finish her homework. “Hey, how’s Mr. Jensen?”
“Not good. They put him in the hospital wing here because he was so dehydrated. But he keeps asking about you. He calls you Princess Bride.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“He really took a shine to you.”
“He did?”
“He even told Mrs. Poston that you would never steal anything. But he’s really hurting without his wife. It’s hard to watch.”
“I’d like to see him. Can I visit him in the hospital?”
“No, probably not. It’s not the big hospital, just the extra care ward here at the home.”
“So, I guess Mrs. Wicked Witch never found her jewelry?”
“No.” Janie snorted. “And if she did, do you think she’d own up to it?”
“Of course not. Man, I’d like to put that old biddy in her place.”
“Should I tell her you said so?”
“No!” Aja toyed with the pages of her books. “Have you seen Walker?”
“Yeah, he has dinner here a few nights a week. But, hey, Kendall is nowhere to be seen. They had a huge blowout in the parking lot about a week ago. I think it was because she was talking about moving here. Hopefully, she’s back home.”
After school, Aja saw a car in front of her house. Instead of going in the back, she opened the front door and saw her mom sitting on the couch with a woman holding a notepad.
“Here she is,” her mom said. “Aja, this is a reporter from The Truth.” Aja recognized the title of the local underground newspaper. “I called her because we just got the letter saying that we can’t get a restraining order against Clay Richards.”
“Why?”
“It’s your word against his, and he has to patrol this area. I’m shocked.” She nodded to the woman. “That’s why I called the news. We need to let the community know how dangerous he is.”
The reporter looked at Aja and asked, “So, you think he broke in to your home?”
Aja nodded.
“And, according to the report you filed, he said he wanted to take nude photos of you?”
Again, Aja nodded. She could feel the woman’s doubts seep in like fog.
“In his report, he responded, saying he walked in on a nude modeling session at this house. That’s what he was referring to, not that he wanted you to do anything wrong.”
This time, Aja shook her head but stayed silent.
“And someone named,” the woman looked at the report, “Bea Poston said you were coming on to him at the nursing home.”
“Not true,” Aja whispered.
“This sounded like a good story, but you’ll need to provide proof. Right now, it’s a little tenuous.”
“It doesn’t matter anyway,” Aja said. “Who’d believe me over him?” Her teachers, principals, former employers would all be against her. She was crushed.
“No, don’t back down.” Her mom stood. “He’s wrong, and we can’t let him get away with it. Not only am I worried about you”—she looked at Aja—“but it’s our responsibility to get this jerk off the streets.”
“It’s our word against his,” Aja cried. “You’re a psychic, artist, singer, and I’m a juvenile delinquent. We’ve moved to a different place almost every year. Who’s going to believe our word over his?”
Her mom turned to the reporter. “You believe us, don’t you?”
The woman raised an eyebrow. “Your daughter has a point.”
“Why would we make this up?” Her mom was indignant.
The reporter shrugged and stood to leave. “I’ll need proof. The story would be good if you can validate some points. I can’t report on it with so many holes in it.”
“And this guy gets away with it?” her mom asked. “Am I going to have to be a vigilante and take him out myself?”
“Mom, stop.” Aja had a flash image of her mom going at Richards with her needle-nose pliers.
The reporter looked cautiously at Aja’s mom. “I need proof against him.” The sideways glance she gave Aja’s mom said she was the unstable one.
“He is guilty,” Aja said, defending her mom. “It’s too bad he can hide behind his badge and reports. We may not look credible, but we’re the victims.” Aja puffed out and stood next to her mom. “Dig deeper on him; I’ll bet you find something.”
“I’ll see what I can come up with.” The woman nodded and left.
As soon as the door closed Aja turned and glared at her mother. “Why can’t you be a normal mom? Have cookies and milk ready for me when I come home. Not another stupid cause!”
“Aja, this is who we are.”
“Who, you are. Not me.” Aja whirled to go to her room.
“What’s normal?” her mom called to her.
Aja stopped and turned. “Maybe a world where you act like a real mom, you know, ground me for talking back to grown ups, not celebrate it. Sometimes I think you like your causes and protests more than me. I’m the teenager, I’m the one who’s supposed to be in trouble all the time, not you.”
“Do you want to grow up to be just like everybody? I’m trying to teach you to be independent and embrace your own self—to be individual.”
“As long as we stir up trouble doing it, right? You can’t do anything without making it a cause!”
“Find your voice, Aja.” Her mom pleaded. “I do it for you. For you to find your own way.” She turned and said softly, “I’m sorry.”
Aja’s phone rang and she stomped to her room before her mother could say anything else. She glanced at caller ID. It was Janie. “Hey, Janie.”
“Aja, hi, this isn’t Janie. It’s Lauren, Steve Jensen’s daughter. Janie let me use her phone to call.”
“Oh, hi, how’s your dad?” Aja sat on her bed and tried to calm down after yelling at her mom. “Janie said he was in the hospital.”
“We can’t get him to eat anything.” Something like a small sob escaped. “We’re not ready to lose him, not now after Mom.”
“Yeah, I’m sorry. I know your dad really loved her. It was sweet seeing how much he cared.” Aja remembered his trembling hand holding his ailing wife’s feather-like hand. “I’d hoped to go to the funeral.”
“He keeps asking for you. He said you helped take care of Mom.”
“I asked Janie if I could visit him, but I’m not, you know, welcome there.”
“Would you come if I asked if it would be okay? I’ll do anything to make him happy.”
“Sure.” Aja hesitated. “Lauren, I didn’t steal anything.”
“I don’t have the energy or time to worry about that,” Lauren said. “If you can visit dad and make him smile, it would mean the world to us.”
“Is he strong enough to meet somewhere like a restaurant?” Aja asked.
“No, he can barely walk, and he’s getting IV nutrition.” Lauren sighed. “It’s so hard now without Mom.” She began crying. “They were two peas in a pod. I should be a good daughter and let him go with her. It’s what he wants. But I can’t bear to lose both of them.”
“Call Edna Jones and ask if I can come by,” Aja said. “If she says no, maybe I can sneak in somehow.” She swallowed hard, thinking she was already walking on a thin line.
“Thanks, Aja.”
Aja clicked off the old phone and went to recharge it, since the battery died almost every phone call. As she plugged in the phone, she looked out her window. A police cruiser passed slowly by, and she chilled when she saw who was driving.
Chapter 24
Aja considered dialing 911 on her old phone but the cord had come out and the battery had been knocked loose when Aja plugged it in. She dropped the phone on her dresser and ran to the front door.
“Where’s the fire?” Her mom stepped out of the kitchen.
“That jerk just drove by our house.”
“Clay Richards?”
“Yeah. Should we call 911?”
Aja’s mom didn’t answer but picked up a long wooden dowel that she used to stretch her canvases. “Which way did he go?”
“Mom, really?” Aja
watched her go to the door. “I’m not sure you’re going to take him out with that.”
Her mom smacked the doorframe with the stick. Clay Richards was nowhere to be seen. “Okay, let’s call the police. People like him are the reason I fight causes, and,” she added, “to protect you.” She reached in her pocket and pulled her phone out.
“Wait,” Aja said. “Who do you think they’ll send? The closest officer on duty, which is him.”
“This is insane. The guy is stalking us.”
Aja felt the now familiar tingle of terror down her spine. She still hadn’t told her mother about him following her home and to the hospital. “Call the female police officer, what was her name? Smith? See if she’s on duty.”
“No, this is war.” Her mom dialed 911 and reported a stalker who had just driven by their house.
“Mom, don’t, it’s only going to make it worse.”
But it was too late. As Aja predicted, Clay Richards roared into their driveway thirty seconds later. Aja slammed the front door. “Go lock the back. Why did you call him here?”
Aja’s mom dialed 911 again and reported the stalker in their drive and to hurry. She bolted the back door and kept the wooden dowel in her hand.
“I know there’s a police officer here, but the stalker has a gun,” her mom yelled in the phone. “Hurry, he’s at the door!” Aja’s mom hung up and slid the phone in her pocket, a sly smile on her face.
Aja was mortified, but there was no way she’d leave the house with him so close.
Before long, there were three police cars, lights flashing, parked haphazardly in front of Aja’s house.
Richards had been banging on their door. “Police, open up.”
Aja’s mom went to the front door and yelled, “You are not allowed on this property.”
“You called us.”
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