Page 10

Alora

The last time I was in a police station, I ended up thrown in prison, and this wasn’t looking much better as they led me to a small interrogation room. Was I in a movie? This just couldn’t be real.

The cuffs were removed, and I rubbed at my wrists, still able to feel the cool metal against my skin. The officer pointed to the seat as the door was closed, and I slowly sat down, all too aware of the blinking light in the corner.

“Am I being charged with something,” I asked.

“Not at this time. The detective will be in shortly to speak with you.”

“If I’m not being charged, then why did you put me in cuffs? Do I even have to stay here, or can I walk out right now?”

The cop, who I now knew as Officer Reed, shook his head. “You were considered possibly dangerous. It’s just protocol. As for leaving, I wouldn’t advise it, as we will just get a warrant to arrest you, and then this conversation becomes a lot less friendly.”

“This is your friendly?” I crossed my arms over my chest. “I want a lawyer.”

“We can call a public defender if you’d like?”

The door opened, and a man in a suit walked in. “That won’t be necessary. This is a very informal conversation. If you don’t like a question at any time, you are free to leave,” the new arrival said. He held out his hand. “Sorry for the cuffs. My name is Dominic or Detective Williams, whichever you prefer.”

I looked at his hand and then up into his steady gaze. He reminded me of every good cop character I’d ever seen. He was a good-looking man in that fatherly kind of way. Not that I knew much about that when my father took off when I was nine. Just went to work and never came home. I pegged Dominic to be in his forties, with striking black hair and a suit that brought out the hazel in his eyes. No matter what vibe he was giving off, I wasn’t shaking his hand. He nodded, taking the hint, and sat down.

“Will you please tell me why I am here?”

“Did you go to Janette Dubois’s home last Monday?”

I tilted my head as I looked at him. “That’s what this is about? My mother had you arrest me because I dared knock on her door?”

“So, you don’t deny being there?”

“No, I don’t deny it. I hadn’t seen my mother since I went to prison, and I thought maybe if she saw me, we could…I don’t… she’s my mother. I just thought we might be able to reconnect and talk…but she didn’t want to. She made that clear.”

Dominic scribbled down what I was saying. “And what happened?”

I shrugged. “About what you’d expect. She yelled at me, told me to go to hell, and said she never wanted to see me again. She slapped me and slammed the door in my face.”

“How did that make you feel?”

I snorted. “How do you think it made me feel? I was hurt and devastated. I’ve been sober for just over six months, and I almost broke my sobriety. I would say I was upset.”

“Were you angry?”

“No, I wanted to cry. I wanted to slip into a hole and never crawl out. I went to a late AA meeting and then went home.”

“And where do you live? I couldn’t find an address on record,” he said, looking up at me from his notepad.

“North Quarter Homeless Shelter.” His pen paused. “Yes, you heard me right. I’m a total screw-up. Now, I’m not answering any more questions until you tell me why I’m here and why I was just removed from my job, which I will be lucky to have now, thanks to your officers. Can I go on the record saying that you all know how to kick someone when they are down, and maybe you would get better results if you tried a different tactic?”

I blinked back the tears as the well of emotion I’d been suppressing rushed to the surface out of nowhere. How could my mother call the cops on me? Yes, I screwed up, and I had to live with that and the loss of my sister forever, but I also did my time and was trying hard to get my life on track.

“Just one more question.”

“No. Answer mine first, or I will get that lawyer. I don’t care who it is at this point. I’ve done nothing wrong, and this department has humiliated me and treated me like a criminal for no reason.”

Dominic leaned back in the chair and tapped his pen on the table. “Okay, fine, you’re right, you’ve been very cooperative. I am investigating the murder of David Fulgor.”

My brow knit together. “I don’t know who that is. Why would you think I had anything to do with not only a murder but of someone I don’t know?”

“So, you’ve never heard that name before?” I shook my head. “He is…was your mother’s boyfriend, but he was brutally murdered Thursday night.”

My hands went to my chest. “And my mother pointed the finger at me? Are you kidding me right now?” He didn’t say anything, nor did his expression change, and yet I knew I was right. “This is unbelievable. I knew she hated me, but this…murder? Wow.” I shook my head as the pain and disbelief mingled in my system like a potent and volatile cocktail of despair. “You know what? This is insane. If anything, you should be looking into the fact that I’ve been stalked, not that I’m a murderer.”

“You’ve been stalked? You were, and it’s stopped, or it’s still ongoing?”

“Still.”

“Okay, tell me about that.”

I licked my lips. “Okay, it started last Monday when I ran into him at the gym. I wasn’t in the gym. I was outside on the sidewalk. He came out, and I physically ran into him.”

“Okay, and what happened.”

“I told him to watch it and walked away, but he followed me and wanted to buy me a coffee.” Dominic stopped writing and looked at me. “I know it doesn’t sound like much, but he had a dangerous vibe. I darted into a bakery, rushed out the back of the store, and hid. He followed me out to the alley.”

“And when was the next time you saw him?”

“At a bar. I had left work and was walking down the street when I saw him bartending through a window.” Dominic lifted a brow at me, and heat flushed my body. “He looked at me, and we locked eyes. It was…it’s hard to describe, but I ran away.”

“Did he follow you?”

“Not that I saw, but if he wasn’t working, I bet he would’ve. Then, the other night at my AA meeting, I swore someone was staring at me from out in the hall.”

“Did you see who it was?”

“No, one of the other members opened the door, and no one was there.” I bit my lip. This sounded so weak out loud, but how the hell did you describe a feeling, a knowing, an instinct? “Then earlier, when I finished work at Molisano’s, he was across the road sitting on a bench eating a burger. By the time I arrived at Harper’s Diner for my shift there, he was inside and ordering fries.”

“Alright. Did he say anything about following you or why he was there?”

I swallowed hard. “Miss Harper said he was looking to purchase the diner. I didn’t know she had it up for sale.”

Dominic leaned back in his chair, no longer writing anything down. “So let me make sure I get this right. You ran into him, but he tried to apologize and buy you a coffee. You then saw him at his work while you were looking through a window and then claimed that he was at your AA meeting, but no one saw him there. Then today, he showed up at your place of business but had a meeting arranged with your boss. Do I have that right?”

Wiggling in my seat, I looked around as I tried to figure out how to explain this better. “Yes, I guess that’s it, but I’m telling you this guy has a vibe.”

“A vibe?”

“Yeah, like he feels dangerous.”

“Miss Dubois, you do know what the definition of stalking is, right?”

“I’m telling you someone is following me, and it’s this Mr. Laurent guy,” I said, exasperated. No one believed me eight years ago, and no one would believe me now. Everyone wanted to assume the worst of me, my mother included.

“Mr. Laurent, as in Bourbon Boys Bar?” I nodded. “Greyson Laurent owns the bar you mentioned and is a model citizen in the community.” Great, the detective knew him and thought he was wonderful. This was not good.

I ran my hand through my hair. “Believe what you want, but I’m done, and I’m leaving. Can someone drive me to the shelter since it’s on the other side of town?”

“Yes, we can do that, but one last question. Did you take anything from your mother’s house? Go back later for anything?”

I shook my head. “No.”

“No old memorabilia?”

“My mother told me she burned all my things and wanted me to burn in hell, so no, I didn’t go back, and I certainly didn’t know she still had anything. Looks like she is the liar. Maybe you’re looking at the wrong woman. She was the one sleeping with him, after all. Isn’t the spouse the number one suspect? Or is that only when they don’t have a child who was in prison?”

“I assure you, we are looking into all angles of this investigation. Are you saying your mother is capable of murder?”

I smiled and then laughed. “Who knows anymore? At one point, I would’ve said no. But I haven’t seen her in eight years, other than that night. People change, so maybe. What I do know is that I didn’t know this boyfriend of hers and didn’t even know she had one. It wasn’t me.” I stood from the chair. “Oh, can I file a sexual assault charge or at least have an occurrence on file?”

“Is this like the stalking,” he asked, and even though he didn’t smile, I could feel the sarcasm in the question.

“You know what? Forget it. I just want to go home.”

Dominic stood and walked over to the door. Opening it, he looked down at me as I walked past him. “I’ll escort you to the front, and you can wait there for an officer to take you home, but Miss Dubois, I wouldn’t leave the state until this matter is closed.”

“Like I have anywhere else to go.”

Every fiber in my being wanted to storm over to my mother’s house and tell her what I thought of her lack of mothering. Pointing the finger at me for something so horrendous was over the line.

This day was one of those days that I should’ve just rolled over and not gotten up. I looked down at my shaking hand as we stepped into the waiting area at the front of the police station. I needed a meeting. If God wanted to test me, he was doing a damn fine job of it.