Broken Wings (Broken Wings 1)

Carson, Daddy, and two policemen turned to look my way the moment I opened the door and entered the house.

“There she is,” Carson said, and shook his head.

Daddy stepped forward, the two policemen now on either side of him. One carried a clipboard. They all looked like they were poised to charge at me.

“What?” I cried, my hands out.

“Your mother,” Daddy began, “actually fainted when she heard about all this. She’s upstairs in the bedroom. I have called Doctor Stein, who wants me to bring her into the office to check her blood pressure.” He paused, glanced at Carson, and then added in a louder voice, “She could have a stroke, Teal. That’s how people get strokes.”

“What did I do?” I wailed.

“Tell her,” Daddy ordered the two policemen. The taller and darker-haired man on his left stepped forward. He lifted the clipboard higher and peeled away the top page.

“Do you know a Shirley Number?” he asked.

“Of course she does,” Daddy answered for me.

“Dad,” Carson said softly. “Maybe you shouldn’t have her say anything until you call Gerald Gladstone.”

“I’m not wasting good money on any attorney,” my father practically screamed.

Carson pulled his lips in and stepped back.

“I would like you to answer the questions,” the policeman said. “Not your father. Well, do you know her?”

“Yes, I know Shirley. So what?” I snapped back at the policeman.

Daddy’s face reddened until he resembled an overly ripe tomato. I thought he was the one who would get the stroke, not Mommy.

He pointe

d his right forefinger at me.

“I’d advise you to be contrite, Teal. Your only hope here is that people who don’t know you will take pity on you,” he said.

I looked away so the policemen wouldn’t see the tears in my eyes. There was more love between Del and his estranged father who deserted the family than there was between me and my father, I thought. How many nights had he lain awake wishing my mother had gotten an abortion?

“Shirley Number had a diamond bracelet in her possession. What do you know about it?” the policeman asked. I could see from the look on his face that he already knew the answer.

So that was it. I felt the blood drain from my face. Shirley had given me up. Why couldn’t she come up with a story? Say she had found it, anything? Some friend she was. She had obviously led the police to me. She didn’t even qualify as a mere acquaintance.

When I glanced at Daddy, I saw that by the expression on my face and my silence, I was confirming whatever he had been told. He nodded as if he had expected no less.

“She knows everything about it, don’t you, Teal?” he asked me.

I looked away again. Should I lie? Should I pretend I don’t know anything? I could switch things around, maybe. I could put all the blame on Shirley. I could deny, deny, deny. Why should I do anything to protect her? I thought.

“Shirley Number’s father contacted the police department and we questioned her. She claims you gave her the bracelet,” the policeman continued. “She said you were all playing some sort of a shoplifting game, a contest to see who could steal the most expensive thing at the mall. Is that true?”

What didn’t she leave out? What a coward, I thought.

“For God’s sake, Teal, at least tell the truth when you have no other option,” Daddy said, grimacing.

“Yes,” I admitted. “It’s true. It was just a game,” I added to make it seem innocuous.

“Then you admit that you took the bracelet from Mazel’s jewelry store?” the policeman continued, now sounding like a prosecutor.

I didn’t respond. I had told him enough. Let him do some work, I thought. The policeman turned to Daddy.