added, “But even that wasn’t the end of it. She got hold of his phone number and sent some text messages. You know, that kind of thing.”
“So … she was really aggressive?”
Slade nodded. It sounded strange. Not that a girl would do something like that but that the girl in question was Dakota.
“And?”
“Don’t really know. After that, I never heard anything more about it.”
Chapter 15
Sunday 4:42 P.M.
IN THE OLD EMS building, my hand trembles as I reach for the door. Who would imagine that going outside could be this hard? But I’m scared. What will happen if I get caught? Who’ll defend me? My mother has no money. She used everything she had on Sebastian’s defense and then had to declare bankruptcy. And despite all that, Sebastian is still in jail with an eight-to-fifteen-year sentence for aggravated assault. It would have been worse had it not been for the private defense lawyer paid for by his friend Jerry.
But I can’t hide forever, so out I go. It’s early September and everything is still green and warm. I walk along the sidewalk toward town, looking straight ahead and taking determined steps. I remember something Jodie once said: A costume is the least convincing part of a role. It’s the acting that makes or breaks you . My only chance is to act like I’m just another punk with someplace to go.
It’s a good thing no one can hear the thudding of my heart.
First stop is the convenience store. As I walk in, my eyes go immediately to the newspaper stand by the door. On the front page of the local paper is a large slightly blurred color photo that I try not to focus on, knowing it must be one of the shots of me kneeling beside Katherine’s body. Above it in big thick black letters is the headline.
POLICE SEARCH FOR LOCAL TEEN IN MURDER INVESTIGATION
Sex Assault Considered Possible Motive
Sex assault? I want to pick up the paper and read it, but I can’t. Don’t look , I tell myself. Act normal . There are a few other customers in the store, but I don’t look at them, either. As I pull a prepackaged ham-and-cheese sandwich out of the refrigerated display and grab a soda, I consider what this unexpected development could mean. If it was a sex assault, then it couldn’t have been Dakota. But then who killed Katherine? Is it possible Slade was right? That it was just some random stranger?
But if they think it was a sex assault, why are they looking for me?
I head for the checkout, but as I’m paying, I notice the black-and-white monitor in the corner, where the walls meet the ceiling. And there I am on the screen with my new black spiky hair. I quickly look away, but not before a cold chill envelops me. I don’t know why the sight of me on the security monitor should freak me out more than the photo on the front of the newspaper, but it does. It’s like the picture in the newspaper was then and the monitor is now, so they have a record of me in disguise on video. Suddenly I just want to get out of there as fast as my feet can take me.
Back on the sidewalk, I have one more stop to make—the hardware store—but walking through town is nerve-racking. Every time I pass a person, every time someone glances in my direction, I wonder if he or she can see through my disguise. With every step, I have to fight the urge to bolt.
Inside the hardware store, I select some small brass-colored key rings and take them up to the register, once again aware of the video camera mounted in the corner. I’m so busy trying to position myself so that the camera doesn’t see my face that I don’t focus on the person at the cash register until it’s my turn to pay.
We’re practically eye to eye. Oh my God! She’s a punk with hot pink streaks in her dirty blonde hair and tattoos and piercings. We stare at each other for a moment. Soundview isn’t exactly a mecca for punks. Is she wondering why she’s never seen me around before? Does she know why I’m buying those small key rings? She
“So … she was really aggressive?”
Slade nodded. It sounded strange. Not that a girl would do something like that but that the girl in question was Dakota.
“And?”
“Don’t really know. After that, I never heard anything more about it.”
Chapter 15
Sunday 4:42 P.M.
IN THE OLD EMS building, my hand trembles as I reach for the door. Who would imagine that going outside could be this hard? But I’m scared. What will happen if I get caught? Who’ll defend me? My mother has no money. She used everything she had on Sebastian’s defense and then had to declare bankruptcy. And despite all that, Sebastian is still in jail with an eight-to-fifteen-year sentence for aggravated assault. It would have been worse had it not been for the private defense lawyer paid for by his friend Jerry.
But I can’t hide forever, so out I go. It’s early September and everything is still green and warm. I walk along the sidewalk toward town, looking straight ahead and taking determined steps. I remember something Jodie once said: A costume is the least convincing part of a role. It’s the acting that makes or breaks you . My only chance is to act like I’m just another punk with someplace to go.
It’s a good thing no one can hear the thudding of my heart.
First stop is the convenience store. As I walk in, my eyes go immediately to the newspaper stand by the door. On the front page of the local paper is a large slightly blurred color photo that I try not to focus on, knowing it must be one of the shots of me kneeling beside Katherine’s body. Above it in big thick black letters is the headline.
POLICE SEARCH FOR LOCAL TEEN IN MURDER INVESTIGATION
Sex Assault Considered Possible Motive
Sex assault? I want to pick up the paper and read it, but I can’t. Don’t look , I tell myself. Act normal . There are a few other customers in the store, but I don’t look at them, either. As I pull a prepackaged ham-and-cheese sandwich out of the refrigerated display and grab a soda, I consider what this unexpected development could mean. If it was a sex assault, then it couldn’t have been Dakota. But then who killed Katherine? Is it possible Slade was right? That it was just some random stranger?
But if they think it was a sex assault, why are they looking for me?
I head for the checkout, but as I’m paying, I notice the black-and-white monitor in the corner, where the walls meet the ceiling. And there I am on the screen with my new black spiky hair. I quickly look away, but not before a cold chill envelops me. I don’t know why the sight of me on the security monitor should freak me out more than the photo on the front of the newspaper, but it does. It’s like the picture in the newspaper was then and the monitor is now, so they have a record of me in disguise on video. Suddenly I just want to get out of there as fast as my feet can take me.
Back on the sidewalk, I have one more stop to make—the hardware store—but walking through town is nerve-racking. Every time I pass a person, every time someone glances in my direction, I wonder if he or she can see through my disguise. With every step, I have to fight the urge to bolt.
Inside the hardware store, I select some small brass-colored key rings and take them up to the register, once again aware of the video camera mounted in the corner. I’m so busy trying to position myself so that the camera doesn’t see my face that I don’t focus on the person at the cash register until it’s my turn to pay.
We’re practically eye to eye. Oh my God! She’s a punk with hot pink streaks in her dirty blonde hair and tattoos and piercings. We stare at each other for a moment. Soundview isn’t exactly a mecca for punks. Is she wondering why she’s never seen me around before? Does she know why I’m buying those small key rings? She
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