Death to the Prom Queen

Chapter 2 ~ Bail...at what cost

"What? Ya gonna slap this on my record too?" I quip back. I've already been caught reading the damn folder I mind as well carry on.  I skim the last of what I can before its ripped out of my hands.

The man in the room is wearing a suit jacket like the other guy, but in navy. It's nicer though. He's younger than salt and pepper. Maybe in his late thirty's, early forty's (still old to me). He sporting a buzzed head and a neatly trimmed go-tee. He's also got dark oaky skin and mud brown eyes that pierce at me over my lip of my file.

"So 'Skull Face' what's your real name?"

"How do you know my names not Skull?" I tease.

"Cut the crap kid. I want your legal name, not a street one."

"You first."  I reply.

He huffs, " I'm James Greene. I'm a private investigator."

"Uh Huh...well James i don't mean to embarrass you but you have the wrong room. I'm just here for some spray paint. Unless... ohmygod." I bring my cuffed hands up to my face trying to hold in the giggles.

"Did the department hire a special investigator to find me? Awe you guys!" I bat at the integration window knowing someone's probably watching. Then go to wipe away an imaginary tear, summoning a blubbery voice. "They make me feel so special."

James rolls his eyes not swayed by my antics.

"I wasn't hired by the department. I'm here on the behalf of Daniel Miller a long lost relative of yours. I'm suppose to find you and assist in relocating you back into his custody."

Huh? Okay there actually must be a misunderstanding.

"Well now I know your in the wrong place. All my family is dead. I'm in the foster system. You actually have the wrong room."

"No I don't Katerina."

I blank.

This sly bastard already knew my name. Cheater!Wait, this can't be right.

"You must have something mixed up. My mom never talked about any more family."

"I'm here for a crime!" I throw out desperately. This can't be real. Juvie? I can handle. Long lost relatives seeking to kidnap me? No thanks!

Williams shrugs his shoulders, "Well just because she didn't talk about them doesn't mean their not out there. Look, your Uncle Daniel has some pull and got you off doing community service. All you have to do is appear in front of a jury of your peers at the station after you compete your hours. They'll probably have you answer a few of their questions and you'll be good to go."

"That's it?!" I imagine myself in a hairnet slopping ladles of  creamed corn onto styrofoam trays. I guess it beats jail.

"That's it." He nods affirmatively. "Now for your living conditions."

Living conditions?

He puts the file down and his muddy brown eyes strike mine again. Talk about a Wild West stare.

"I went to the foster home you were suppose to be in. Your so called guardian tried to play it off like you were at a sleepover but your room hardly looked lived in. So I'm gonna guess you probably moved in with some friend or boyfriend and stop by the house to check in? So whose are you staying at?" 

Wow. Is this all really happening right now?  Such a busy day. I get arrested, I find out I have long lost family, some private investigator figures out the casual scheme me and my dear foster mom cooked up. What next?

He reaches into his pocket and retrieves a ring of keys. He picks out a long pick like key and grabs the cuffs on my wrist and twisting the pick key into the slot.

"My friend Carly." I mumble it out in shock more then anything. Greene nods In a 'yeah that's what I thought' kind of way. The cuffs open up and I instinctively rub my wrists.  I'm free!

"We can go pick up your stuff after I call your uncle to let him know I have you under my watch. Then me can make our way down. It's not far. Maybe an  hour or two drive."

Greene pulls his phone out his jacket pocket.

"Wait you said he's my uncle? I'm sorry I'm just confused how were related." Mom didn't talk about family much, if at all, but I would have remembered if she would have even mentioned a brother.

From what Mom did tell me she was estranged from her mom and dad and other then a french aunt on her moms side and a creepy second cousin on her dads side there wasn't much to say for the family tree. More like family sapling.

"Your uncle is the brother of your father."

My father? What father? Mom NEVER mentioned my dad. In fact the subject was off limits. I just always assumed he was a dead beat drug addict or something or that she didn't know who it was. And well truly I thought that if that man had any worth my mom would have lorded the information over me.

"My father? Whose my father?" Greene stops fiddling on his phone and takes a second to look confused. 

"Your mother really never mentioned him?" 

I shake my head.

"Your father was actually a pretty affluential painter: Joseph Ezra Miller." He smirks warmly gesturing to my folder on the table and what remains of the paint on my hands. "Like father like daughter huh?"

"Was?" It comes out softer then I intend.

"Oh I'm sorry. Joseph Ezra Miller passed away a couple of years ago."

Some small hope so long buried I forgot it was there is crushed.

A couple of years ago? My dad was alive most of my life? He was a painter? A famous painter? Why didn't I live with him after mom left? Why didn't she mention him?

I tune out Greene's phone call with my "uncle" staring at the smudges of paint on my fingernails.