You Are What You Eat (Book One)

Chapter 8

Marshall

Margret wanted to call in work to stay home and help but it would do her more good if she were at work. I called into the bank, telling them what happened and that the next week or so I won't be in due to the break in and all the legal problems that come with it. My assistant manager, Carol, will take over until I am back. Once Margret left for work I called the police. They had left a card with the officer who was called to the scene and a number.

I couldn't sit. Even if I wanted to the couch was ruined. I saw the police cruiser pull up to my house. I went to the door and greeting the officer. "Hello Officer." I held my hand out for a friendly shake. He shook my hand, nodding. He looked around my age, early 40's with salt and pepper hair that's covered by his police cap. "Mr. Crawford, I'm Officer Angel, I was the officer on scene last night when your neighbors called. Can you tell me why you were out of town?" I nodded. "We had a family emergency at my mother's house. She lives in New Jersey so we spent the day there."

He nodded. "May I see the rest of the house?" I let him inside. As he inspected, he started writing everything down. He spoke while he did so. "Mr. Crawford, do you have any idea of who would want to do this to you and your family?" "I have a very good idea. There's this not so good college kid that's been harassing my daughter." He stood up from kneeling, looking at the ruined couch, looking at me. "Have a name?" I nodded, getting my daughters phone from my pocket, showing him Brent's Facebook. "Brent Mitchel." He took the phone, looking through the Facebook. "Are there texts on here?" "Many and most of them are not so good. That was a family emergency. Once we found out about this guy and Morgan She didn't want to tell us but she opens up to her grandmother very easily. We thought it would be a good idea to go up there for the day, get everything sorted out." The officer nodded.

"I'll check the place for finger prints; see if any texts match to the crime then we can start pressing charges." "Of course." He called for backup for evidence and clean up and protection in the chance Brent came back to the crime scene. Within twenty minutes two other officers were in my house, all walking around, getting what prints they could. One of them found an empty spray paint can thrown behind the couch. There was some prints on the doorknob. Then they took in the damage. Asking more questions and I complying with them in the inventory of the chaos and property damage.

Five windows broken. Two plate sets and glassware sets. One sectional couch. One flat screen TV. Four outdoor cushions. A stuffed bear, pig and stuffed peter rabbit. Sheet set. Picture frames, not to mention all the legal cost Brent will no doubt have to pay. They took her phone as evidence as well. "Mr. Crawford, would you be willing to come down to the station for some questioning?" I frowned.

"Am I in some sort of trouble?" "No. Not at all. Just some questions about your daughter and her relation to this Brent. Texts can only tell so much." "Of course." I saw them putting up police tape over the door and around the outside of the house. I ran my hands thru my hair. This was too much. My house has become a crime scene.

Once at the station they offered me some tea and led me to an interrogation room. Officer Angel came a little while later with pictures, no doubt printed from her phone. "Mr. Crawford, How old is your daughter?" He asked as he sat down. I swallowed my tea. "Turned fifteen in April." He nodded. "Were you aware of her relationship with Brent during that time?" "No sir. I only knew that she changed. I knew it had to be some kind of bully but never thought to this extent." "What do you mean by changed?" I sighed. "She used to be in the science club, won lots of contests and school tournaments. She used to crack jokes alot to, she had alot of fire. But during this year she stopped the science club, she started to withdraw from us, her friends, started misbehaving, gotten quiet, acting out and we didn't know why or what was causing it. Every time we tried to talk to her, she would talk around it or get on the defensive. And now that we do know, it's awful. I've never felt so helpless." He nodded.