Read Online Vicious Cycle by Terri Blackstock - Free Book Online
Authors: Terri Blackstock
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habit. He hoped God was still listening.
Chapter 11
J ail wasn’t part of Lance’s plan for his life. He’d been appalled when his sister got arrested for DUIs, and had vowed never to do anything that would lead to his own arrest.
And here he was. The old saying was true: No good deed goes unpunished.
Okay, sure—he deserved a ticket for driving without a license. Maybe even a fine or a suspension of his permit. But not jail. He should have known not to get tangled up with a girl who was on drugs. Addicts were like octopuses, wrapping you up, manipulating and draining you, dragging you down. He’d told Emily that so many times when she was hanging with those losers. Why hadn’t he taken his own advice?
Shame twisted his stomach as he walked through the police station, his hands still cuffed behind his back. His mother, who had followed them to the precinct, warned himnot to tell them anything until she got an attorney here. He hoped the lawyer would get here soon, because he honestly didn’t know if he could keep his mouth shut if they pressured him to talk.
The cop sat him down in a metal chair in a cold, small interview room and released his handcuffs. He looked around for a camera and found one mounted in the top corner of the room, just like on those cop shows. They’d record what he said, and people would analyze his story. It was downright creepy.
A man he hadn’t seen before came in and held out his hand. “Lance, I’m Detective Dathan. I’m going to be taking your statement.”
He shook. “Nice to meet you.” It seemed like a lame thing to say, even a little silly, but maybe if he pulled out all his manners, they’d realize he wasn’t some ordinary thug.
The man slid his chair out behind his desk. It scraped on the concrete floor. Every noise in here seemed amplified, as if it were designed to intimidate.
Detective Dathan was a perfect customer for the Big and Tall Shop. At around six-four, his meaty, imposing arms covered most of the table. “So … why don’t you tell me what happened?”
“I … I’ve already explained it to the officer that arrested me.”
“I know, but let’s just go through it again.”
Lance felt his pulse throbbing in his throat. “I’m sorry, sir, but my mom wanted me to wait until she gets me a lawyer.”
The door flew open, and Lance jumped. His mother stood in the doorway with a uniformed cop behind her. “Bob, this is the mother,” the cop said. “She wants to be present for the questioning.”
Lance met his mother’s eyes, hoping they didn’t throw her out.
The detective groaned and rubbed his face. “Lady, that’s not the best idea.”
“He’s a minor,” she said. “I’m his mother.”
He sighed and got up. “All right. Joe, go get her another chair.”
Lance sat stiffly, relieved to have someone on his team. His mom could make them see the truth. She always fixed everything, even when it seemed impossible. When the chair was brought in, she sat down next to him. The detective took his seat again, looking peeved.
“So … we were saying …”
“That I need to wait for a lawyer,” Lance said, glancing at his mother for approval.
“I’ve called our attorney, Gus Thompson,” Barbara said. “He should be here soon.”
The detective slapped his knees, then got up. “Okay.”
“I mean, I don’t have anything to hide,” Lance said. “It’s not that. I had the baby, but Jordan did give her to me.”
His mother touched his hand, squeezed it to shut him up.
The man slowly sat back down. “Just handed her over, huh? Then forgot and called the police?”
His mom squeezed tighter.
“No sir.”
“Well, she says you took the baby forcefully.”
“No way! She didn’t say that.”
The man’s eyes widened. “I have the complaint right here.”
Sweat dripped down Lance’s temple. “If she said that, she lied.”
“The police report says she had bruises on her face and body.”
Barbara sucked in a breath. “Does
Chapter 11
J ail wasn’t part of Lance’s plan for his life. He’d been appalled when his sister got arrested for DUIs, and had vowed never to do anything that would lead to his own arrest.
And here he was. The old saying was true: No good deed goes unpunished.
Okay, sure—he deserved a ticket for driving without a license. Maybe even a fine or a suspension of his permit. But not jail. He should have known not to get tangled up with a girl who was on drugs. Addicts were like octopuses, wrapping you up, manipulating and draining you, dragging you down. He’d told Emily that so many times when she was hanging with those losers. Why hadn’t he taken his own advice?
Shame twisted his stomach as he walked through the police station, his hands still cuffed behind his back. His mother, who had followed them to the precinct, warned himnot to tell them anything until she got an attorney here. He hoped the lawyer would get here soon, because he honestly didn’t know if he could keep his mouth shut if they pressured him to talk.
The cop sat him down in a metal chair in a cold, small interview room and released his handcuffs. He looked around for a camera and found one mounted in the top corner of the room, just like on those cop shows. They’d record what he said, and people would analyze his story. It was downright creepy.
A man he hadn’t seen before came in and held out his hand. “Lance, I’m Detective Dathan. I’m going to be taking your statement.”
He shook. “Nice to meet you.” It seemed like a lame thing to say, even a little silly, but maybe if he pulled out all his manners, they’d realize he wasn’t some ordinary thug.
The man slid his chair out behind his desk. It scraped on the concrete floor. Every noise in here seemed amplified, as if it were designed to intimidate.
Detective Dathan was a perfect customer for the Big and Tall Shop. At around six-four, his meaty, imposing arms covered most of the table. “So … why don’t you tell me what happened?”
“I … I’ve already explained it to the officer that arrested me.”
“I know, but let’s just go through it again.”
Lance felt his pulse throbbing in his throat. “I’m sorry, sir, but my mom wanted me to wait until she gets me a lawyer.”
The door flew open, and Lance jumped. His mother stood in the doorway with a uniformed cop behind her. “Bob, this is the mother,” the cop said. “She wants to be present for the questioning.”
Lance met his mother’s eyes, hoping they didn’t throw her out.
The detective groaned and rubbed his face. “Lady, that’s not the best idea.”
“He’s a minor,” she said. “I’m his mother.”
He sighed and got up. “All right. Joe, go get her another chair.”
Lance sat stiffly, relieved to have someone on his team. His mom could make them see the truth. She always fixed everything, even when it seemed impossible. When the chair was brought in, she sat down next to him. The detective took his seat again, looking peeved.
“So … we were saying …”
“That I need to wait for a lawyer,” Lance said, glancing at his mother for approval.
“I’ve called our attorney, Gus Thompson,” Barbara said. “He should be here soon.”
The detective slapped his knees, then got up. “Okay.”
“I mean, I don’t have anything to hide,” Lance said. “It’s not that. I had the baby, but Jordan did give her to me.”
His mother touched his hand, squeezed it to shut him up.
The man slowly sat back down. “Just handed her over, huh? Then forgot and called the police?”
His mom squeezed tighter.
“No sir.”
“Well, she says you took the baby forcefully.”
“No way! She didn’t say that.”
The man’s eyes widened. “I have the complaint right here.”
Sweat dripped down Lance’s temple. “If she said that, she lied.”
“The police report says she had bruises on her face and body.”
Barbara sucked in a breath. “Does
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