Nomad'er What

Chapter 7: Creaming soda

Aileen’s POV

The police station is a big antique house renovated into offices on the main floor, meeting rooms and head offices up stairs, interrogation rooms in the basement and cells in the cellar. There was no way a common thief like me could bust him out so instead I’ll do what I’m best at, lying and bending the rules. So, I walked in with undeniable confidence, half hoping half praying that this confidence will stop people from asking questions of me. My little fantasy ended faster than I it took me to think it up.

“Can I help you miss?” a policemen asked very sincerely, concern showed in his eyes, but all I could think was ‘get out of my way knuckle head’.

I smiled and replied politely, “no,” and kept walking.

“I’m sorry this area is not accessible by the public,” he moved in front of me.

I pivoted around him, but he caught my arm.” I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” He said his temper struggled to keep at bay.

“Well I’m, going to have to ask you to take me to the detective running the fire case, also get you freaking sweaty hands off me!” He ignored my request for personal space and dragged me into an office so white it gave me a headache.

”She demands to speak to you,” the officer grunted at the man sitting behind the desk. This man then stood from his chair and nodded, the officer let me go and closed the door behind him. I stared dumbfounded at this man in front of me. He looked just like Santa or at least Santa with red hair. He offered his hand to me, “Detective Whiler at your service what can I do for you?” he said confusion and concern flared in his voice.

I shook his hand, cautiously. “Aileen…” I nodded for me to give my last name, but I found that I couldn’t, I hated that name and it wasn’t mine anymore I lost the moment I left my pampered front lawn. So, instead a said, “I have information about the fires.”

He gestured to the itchy carpet-like chair parallel to his own leather office chair.

“Have a seat,” he said, but I had a screaming suspicion he actually meant ‘please tell me what you know.’

I perched on the side of the chair, this wouldn’t take long.

“So what is it you know?” he raised his eye brows a pen clutched in his hand with a notepad beneath it.

“I started the fires.”

After that it was simple, I was escorted to an interview room and left there, I examined my surroundings; two chairs, a steel table, a mirrored window and a camera facing me. I was bored out of my brains and really wanted to run down the hall and beg them to just arrest me already, but I had a suspicion that the door was locked. My butt was starting to hurt when the door finally opened and in walked red-headed Santa. He took his time to take his seat and place a glass of water in front of me. “You’re going to have to give me creaming soda if you want my DNA,” I informed him. He slightly smiled and turned to the form in front of him, ”first name,” he asked.

“Aileen.”

“Last name...”

“There’s a spiders living in the corner of this room you know?” I changed the subject.

“Last name,” he said more forcefully. I smiled and blinked twice at him. He sighed and walked out of the room. Damn more waiting!

He came back fifteen dreadful minutes later and to my surprise in his hand he held a bottle of creaming soda. I smiled, “awwwwww you shouldn’t have,” I teased.

Once again he took a seat and began to fill out the form. “So, Aileen how were you involved with the fires?”

I took a sip of my creaming soda, “oh not just the fires all the thefts too,” I informed him.

His eyes widened and he made one of those annoying Politian-like hand gestures, “please elaborate.”

“The purple pocket knife, I stole it, but I lost it in the fire, it’ll be somewhere in the ruins,” I told him. He opened his mouth to speak but I cut him off, “The two leather jackets, the sleeping bags the army boots, the wool blankets.”

“Two of each it seems,” he confirmed looking at the case file of each missing item.

“Who were you helping?” he asked, but he knew the answer, I was helping Pierce, the boy he’d arrested this morning, the boy who meant everything to me.  I knew Pierce all too well, I knew he hadn’t breathed a word since he was taken into custody and I’d use this to my advantage.

“A blonde boy, I think he’s seventeen maybe,” I put on my best show of confusion as I pretended to recall him, “he is homeless, I think he is mentally disabled you see he’s never spoken,”

“Never spoken?” Santa raised his eyebrows.

“Not to me at least,” I lied, “I’m a good thief I was getting by and well I just…felt bad for him I guess, so I stole a few extra supplies for him that’s all.” I finished my lies.

“And the fire, he started it yes?” Santa questioned, I shook my head.

“No, I did, it was an accident,” I gave him a half smile, “I was trying to start a camp fire, I always sucked at girl scouts so…” Santa nodded. He left me in the room again and then later I was taken into custody.

My last call was pathetic it was to the only number I knew, I’m ashamed of myself and now I knew I’d hit rock bottom. I just hope that they found no reason to keep Pierce here anymore.

I looked out the window of my cell; I wonder how long this will be the only sunlight I see.

End of Part 1