In Too Deep (13 page)

“It seems likely,” I agreed. “After all, the gas station holdup happened right after the thefts at school. Everyone had started being really careful, not leaving things in their lockers and stuff. I think whoever is doing it ran out of things to steal at school because of all the increased caution and that's when he or she decided to rob Broderick's.”

“Sounds like an act of desperation. One source dried up, so another had to be found.” He nodded. “If you're right in your theory that we're talking about a single culprit, then we can rule out mental disorders like kleptomania.”

“Why?”

“Because kleptomaniacs steal
things
, they don't rob stores.”

“So, the thief is only interested in money or things that can be sold for money!”

“I'd say that's a safe bet. And in that case, you're
probably looking for a person who needs money for a particular reason.”

“Such as?”

“Well, for example, drug addicts steal to pay for their habits. Or someone who is poor may develop an obsession to have money to buy things he or she can't afford otherwise. The same would go for a person whose financial circumstances are suddenly reduced and who can't accept a change in lifestyle.”

“So there's no actual common trait in thieves?”

“Not in the way you're asking, although it's impossible to find a thief who isn't also a liar. You see, stealing fosters lies. On the other hand, lots of people lie but don't steal, so that's not an accurate guideline.”

We chatted a bit longer, but Dr. Taylor didn't have a whole lot to add to what he'd told me. Still, I was sure he'd said something helpful, although I couldn't quite put my finger on what it was.

I spent the rest of the weekend just hanging around the house. Greg was working extra shifts because old man Broderick didn't want Amber there until things had settled down a bit. I think he figured people might give her a hard time.

It's not that I couldn't have gone somewhere if I'd wanted, but I knew the whole town would have heard that Greg and I had been questioned by the police. The stares and muffled whispers at school were bad enough without getting the same thing from everyone in Little River. I kept wondering how long it was going to go on.

Mom told me I should just hold my head up and ignore what people were saying, but that's easier said than done. And no matter how much I told myself it would soon blow over, I knew that if the robbery wasn't solved the rumours could follow me around forever.

I have to admit that the whole thing got me thinking hard about Amber. She already had a lot to deal with, considering the situation with her family and all. Being accused of stealing and having her new community judge her must be making her life a total misery. Of course, that's assuming she really was innocent.

On Sunday afternoon I called her and asked her if she wanted to come over for a while, maybe stay for dinner. Her voice sounded really down, and though she thanked me for the invitation, she said that she didn't feel much like going anywhere. I knew how she felt.

One thing I noticed was that our phone rang a whole lot more than it normally did over the weekend. It wasn't hard to tell, from the things Mom said on the phone, that the callers were hoping to get some information. That really made me furious. My mom has never been a gossip, and there she was stuck dealing with all these nosy people and trying to be polite about it. A couple of times she got exasperated and told callers that she was busy, ending the conversations with a curt goodbye and hanging up. I figured they'd gone too far and had asked something really impertinent, but Mom wouldn't talk about what had been said.

Greg told me on Monday morning that it was the busiest weekend he'd ever had at work. It seemed that everyone in town needed gas.

“I got so sick of answering questions,” he sighed. “Some people even came right out and asked me if you and I were suspects. Others just looked really surprised that I was still working there, as if I'd been tried and convicted and they couldn't understand why Mr. Broderick hadn't fired me.”

I hadn't thought things could get any worse at school, but I was dead wrong about that.

A lot of kids were openly hostile, and a few came right up to me and made nasty remarks. Others seemed embarrassed and avoided looking at me. I figured they felt sorry for me and might have liked to say something kind or helpful, but were afraid to.

The principal, Mr. Lower, gave a talk over the PA system that was a lot like the one he'd given me in his office the day I'd accused Amber of stealing my watch. I know he meant to help, but all it did was draw more attention to the whole thing. While he talked about being careful not to judge a person without all the facts, several of my classmates snorted and muttered things that were less than complimentary. My face burned, and I must have looked as guilty as could be.

At lunchtime I could hardly force myself to eat my sandwich. It felt like cardboard in my mouth and tasted about the same. It amazed me that Greg seemed so unaffected, laughing and talking as if everything was perfectly normal. Amber, on the other hand, seemed to
be having the same trouble I was. After a few attempts to eat she pushed her lunch aside without managing more than a couple of bites.

“How can you be so cheerful?” I asked Greg.

“Easy. I just keep imagining how much fun it's going to be when everyone finds out they were wrong.”

“Fun? In what way?” Amber looked curious.

“Think about it,” he smiled. “Once the real culprit is caught, the kids who've been making snide remarks and acting like jerks are going to have to face what they did. Don't you think it's going to be embarrassing for them to realize they treated us that way for no reason?”

“I guess. But that's only
if
the police catch the person who actually did it.”

“They
will
. And then the three of us will be in a position to show how gracious and forgiving we are, which will only add to their embarrassment.”

But it turned out that our tiny group of outcasts was about to increase from three to four. A moment after Greg's remark, I glanced up and saw Betts standing beside the table. She took a deep breath and plunked herself down in an empty chair.

“Hey, Betts,” I said, as if her joining us was a perfectly normal occurrence.

“Hey, Shelb.” Betts's voice was soft and awkward. I knew she'd probably been feeling as bad as I had over the way things had been for the past week.

“Betts, this is Amber. Amber, Betts.” Greg spoke up quickly. The girls nodded to each other, but they both looked uncomfortable.

“Betts, you're Shelby's best friend, aren't you?” Amber asked hesitantly.

“We've been best friends forever.” Betts seemed surprised by the fact that Amber was making conversation. I also noticed that her answer sounded much like a question and that she was looking toward me as she spoke. I suppose that she wondered if her recent actions had changed things between us.

“That's right,” I chimed in quickly. “Betts and I go way back.”

Amber smiled and nodded, but then her face got a sad, faraway look. I realized she must be thinking about her friends back in Alberta.

That night as I was getting ready to go to sleep I tried to picture what it had all been like for Amber. I thought of how it would feel to have my mom tell me that I was too much trouble and that she was sending me off to live with relatives I barely even knew. A jumble of emotions rushed in on me as I imagined what it would be like. Packing my clothes, wondering when, if ever, I'd see my home and family again. Saying goodbye to my friends, leaving behind everything familiar and going to a strange place. It was horrible just thinking about it. And Amber had lived it.

As I drifted off to sleep I said a little prayer that things would get better.

Over the next week it began to look as though my prayer was being answered. After Betts joined us in the cafeteria that day, other students started coming around. Annie Berkley was the next one to make a move. I was heading down the hallway after school when she approached me.

“Hi, Shelby.”

“Hi, Annie.”

“Things sure are weird here these days.” Her normally ruddy complexion was even redder than usual.

“Yeah, they're pretty strange all right.”

“Well, I just wanted you to know that I don't believe all the stories.”

“Thanks.”

“I haven't forgotten how you and your dad took up for me that time Kelsey made fun of me at the Scream Machine.”

“It was a rotten thing for her to do,” I said, remembering the incident.

“The way everyone is treating you lately is worse, though.” She bit her lower lip, which she always does when she's nervous. “Anyway, I'm sorry I haven't said anything before now.”

“That's okay, Annie. I know it's not easy.” Boy, did I ever know!

From that point on, a few other kids started talking to me again. Most of them just acted like they'd never given me the silent treatment at all. It was as if the last week and a half had never happened. That was okay with me.

There was one thing that wasn't okay. Even though some of the students were talking to me and Betts and Greg again, the shifting attitude didn't include Amber.

I understood how hurt she'd been when was sent to Little River, and why that would make her so determined to shut everyone out, but she sure hadn't done herself any favours. In trying to protect herself from any more hurt, she'd become an easy target for gossip and antagonism.

Amber's attitude was changing, though. She seemed to realize that she needed friends, no matter how betrayed she'd been in the past. Because of the shift in her outlook, I think the other students would eventually have come around and accepted her, in spite of everything.

But then something else happened, and instead of things continuing to get better, they got a whole lot worse.

The next big event in Little River took place on a Thursday night, though no one knew anything about it until Friday morning.

I'd just wandered sleepily into the kitchen and was about to sit down for breakfast when I heard sirens blaring in the distance. The sound sent a chill through me, even though I had no reason to think it was going to affect me. If you've been dragged to the police station and questioned about a crime, you tend to get a bit nervous about sirens.

It wasn't long before I heard that Samuels' Music Store had been broken into. Apparently, the thief had made off with the money from the cash register. Whether or not anything else was missing wouldn't be known until Mr. Samuels had a chance to do a complete inventory.

Greg and Amber and I had gone to the Scream Machine and a movie that Thursday evening, so when I heard there'd been a robbery I figured we were all safe. At least, we had an alibi up until around eleven o'clock, which was late for me to be allowed out on a school night. I'd been all ready to beg, but Mom surprised me and said I could go as soon as I asked her.

We'd walked Amber home and then gone to my place, where Greg called his dad to come and pick him up. I thought it was a lucky coincidence that we'd passed the music store on our way home and had stopped to look at a poster in the window that was announcing a contest for a trip to meet your favourite rock star. Everything had been quiet and there was no sign of a break-in then, so the robbery must have taken place later on, when the three of us would all have been safely home.

Of course that was the big topic at school that morning and I felt strangely glad it had happened. After all, since Amber had been with me and Greg, they couldn't accuse her of this one. That would get the police looking somewhere else for the culprit. I figured it would help clear Amber of the gas station robbery too, assuming the same person had committed both crimes.

I got home from school at the usual time and was happy to find a letter from my friend Jane on the
kitchen table. It was upbeat and cheerful, except for a part about her group meetings. And that wasn't really bad either, though it was sad to read. It showed that she was really making progress in dealing with what had happened to her.

The survivor's group has been a great help to me. Just knowing that I'm not the only one who's been through this makes it easier. Besides, I can talk about anything and no one is shocked. We were talking the other day about mothers and I asked why a mother wouldn't automatically know that something was wrong with her child. It seems to me that my mom should have realized what was going on, even if I didn't say anything to her.

Then Crystal, another girl in the group, said that was the hardest thing for her too. She said most mothers would do anything they had to do to protect their children, and she felt her mom had just totally failed her. We both started crying then, and so did most of the other kids in the group. Afterward, I felt a lot better. Being able to say what I'd felt for so long and letting it out like that really helped a lot.

I decided to answer Jane's letter right away and was just about to go to my room for writing paper when the doorbell rang. Mom called out from the other room for to me to see who it was, but before I opened the door I already knew. I'd glimpsed the white vehicle with flashing lights through the side window.

“Mom, it's the police,” I yelled as I reached for the doorknob.

“Afternoon, Miss Belgarden,” one said courteously after I'd pulled the door open. They stepped into the kitchen just as Mom hurried into the room.

“We have a few questions for your daughter, ma'am.” The same officer who'd greeted me turned to Mom. “Would you prefer that we interview her here or at the station?”