A Million Ways Home Read online

  “Why’s that?”

  I wondered where to start. “It’s kind of a long story.”

  “Hmm,” he said. He scratched a sideburn. “Well, in that case, let’s go find a place to talk.”

  Police officers swarmed around the other side of the gas station. Red and blue strobe lights flashed through the early dusk, and bright yellow caution tape twisted in the breeze. It looked just like the set of a TV cop show. An ambulance crew pulled a white sheet over someone on a stretcher.

  “Oh, no,” I breathed. “Is that the lady who works here?”

  Detective Brannigan put a hand on my shoulder. “Come with me.”

  I stepped away from him as the panic surged through me. “He shot her, didn’t he? Is she gonna be okay? She was really nice to me.” I waited a few seconds for his answer before looking up at him. “Is she gonna be okay?”

  He hesitated, like he was carefully weighing his words, then shook his head. “No. Afraid not.”

  I remembered the cashier’s friendly smile, and my throat burned. I started to shake even worse. People hovered behind the caution tape, pointing, talking in hushed voices, and recording everything with their phones. There was motion everywhere, too much motion. Another wave of dizziness washed over me. “I don’t feel so good.”

  “Yeah, scary stuff has that effect,” Detective Brannigan said. He slipped his leather jacket off and the weight of it settled over my shoulders. I didn’t realize how cold I was until I felt the warmth on my bare arms. “Come on,” he said, “let’s go sit for a few minutes.”

  He guided me over to a squad car and opened the back door. “Hop in,” he said. Then he went around to the other side and climbed in beside me.

  I slumped against the seat and studied the crisscrossing pattern of the metal barrier separating the front seat from the back. I realized where I was — sitting in an actual, real police car. I tried to swallow back a nervous giggle, but it slipped out anyway. “I’ve never been in a police car.”

  “Glad to hear that. So tell me what you were doing out behind the gas station.”

  His question sounded simple enough, but the answer was so complicated I didn’t know where to start. I wondered if I was in trouble for running away? Was it against the law? “I was just trying to find my grandma.”

  “Hmm. Your grandma has a thing for gas stations?”

  It took my tired brain a few seconds to realize he was trying to be funny. I looked up in surprise, and he smiled. He had thick brownish-gray hair that kicked up on his shirt collar, and eyes the color of strong coffee. The kind Grandma Beth liked to drink — one sugar, no cream. I started to tell him about her stroke, and how she’d been moved to the Huckleberry Home, and about getting off at the wrong stop, and finally about what had happened at the gas station.

  He listened to the whole thing without interrupting. “Well,” he said. “I guess I could see why you felt the need to find your grandma. She sounds like quite a woman.”

  “She is,” I said, and the emotion rolled into my voice. “We’ve been together since I was a baby. And it’s not right that they stuck me in the kids’ shelter when I should be taking care of her.”

  He didn’t respond. I rested my head against the seat. “Can you call my social worker to come get me? Her name’s Miss Austin.”

  “Suppose you tell me how good a look you got at the suspect first.”

  I thought of the man’s weird eyes and the awful smell of his breath and felt another wave of nausea. “A good one.”

  “If I showed you a picture, do you think you’d recognize him?”

  I nodded. “I’m good with details. I like to draw.”

  “Really? You draw people?”

  “No. Dogs mostly.”

  “Dogs, huh? Okay. The suspect didn’t speak to you, did he?”

  “He asked who I was.”

  Detective Brannigan rubbed a thumb and forefinger over his bottom lip. “Yeah? What did you tell him?”

  I searched his face. Even though his voice hadn’t changed, I got the distinct feeling that I’d done something terribly wrong. “My name,” I admitted softly.

  “First and last?”

  I nodded.

  “All right. You stay put for a bit, and I’m gonna talk to a few people.” He climbed out and then bent to smile at me. “Don’t leave town, okay?”

  A cold draft blew through the open doors of the squad car. I slipped my arms through the sleeves of his jacket as Detective Brannigan disappeared into the gas station. The ambulance was gone. I thought about the cheerful cashier and wanted to cry again. How could she be dead? I’d talked with her only an hour or two ago.

  A mournful baying made me bolt up to see a black-and-tan bloodhound jump out of the backseat of another police car parked nearby. He wore a harness and a vest that said DOZER — SPOKANE COUNTY K-9 UNIT, and he wiggled around so excited I thought he might jump right out of his wrinkled skin. He shook his massive head and a line of drool went flinging across his handler’s legs as the two of them disappeared around the building. Dozer was such a cool name for a dog. I wished I had my phone so I could take his picture and draw him later.

  Miss Austin showed up soon after. I scrunched down in the seat and watched her scurry around in her bright red dress and high-heeled pumps. I felt a twinge of guilt for all the trouble I’d caused her. But still, if she’d only taken me to see Grandma Beth, I wouldn’t be in this mess. She flitted around to different police officers until one of them finally pointed her toward Detective Brannigan. Then the two of them stood talking for a long time. The flashing lights made my head pound. I closed my eyes.

  I opened them again when the familiar tap-tap-tap came close to the car. Miss Austin had a look of panic on her face. “Poppy! You had me so worried! Where in the world did you think you were going?”

  “Just to see Grandma Beth.”

  “But I told you I’d take you tomorrow.”

  I sighed. “I know. I’m sorry. I was just worried she might need me. Can we go back to the center now? I’m really tired and hungry.”

  Detective Brannigan had come up behind her, and she glanced over her shoulder at him before answering. “I don’t think you’ll be going back right yet.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Miss Austin moved aside, and Detective Brannigan knelt beside the door. “We need to go to the police station and get your story down, Poppy.”

  “But I already told you my story. Why do I need to go to the police station?”

  He cleared his throat. “Because right now it seems you’re the only person who can identify the suspect. That makes you pretty valuable.”

  I gaped at him. “That’s crazy. There’s a zillion people around here.”

  “Yeah, but they’re all saying pretty much the same thing. The suspect had a mask on when he went in, but the cashier somehow pulled it off him before she was shot. Then he panicked and ran out the back door. So you really might have been the only one who saw his face.”

  It took me a minute to digest his words, but then I understood, and it felt like ants were running up and down my neck. “You think he might come after me?”

  Detective Brannigan shook his head. “No, I don’t think that. But we do want you someplace where we can keep an eye on you for a while.”

  Someplace? “But I have to see Grandma Beth.” I looked at Miss Austin. “You’ll still take me to see her, won’t you? You promised.”

  “I’ll make sure you see your grandma,” Detective Brannigan said.

  “When?”

  “Tomorrow.”

  I wasn’t sure if I could believe him or not, and it made me feel so helpless. “Do you really mean that?”

  He met my gaze. “I don’t say things I don’t mean.”

  My chin trembled, and I slumped back against the seat. It felt like I’d been up for two days. “What time is it?”

  “Six-fifty,” he said.

  Miss Austin fingered her hair. “I have a quick errand to run, Dete
ctive Brannigan. Can I just meet up with Poppy at the police station?”

  “That’ll be fine,” he said.

  “All right.” She smiled at me. “I’ll see you shortly, Poppy.”

  I didn’t answer as she clicked away. What was there to say?

  TWO new officers came to the car. Detective Brannigan introduced them as Officer Ray Baxter and Officer Maria Córdoba. Officer Baxter wedged himself behind the steering wheel. He had a patch of gray fluffy hair and looked like he might be about ready to retire. Officer Córdoba had huge dark eyes and looked like she’d just graduated from high school. She shook my hand and told me to call her Maria before she slipped into the passenger seat. Detective Brannigan sat in back with me, and the four of us finally escaped the glaring lights of the gas station.

  I closed my eyes and rubbed my neck. My muscles had been knotted for so many hours they’d forgotten how to relax, and my head throbbed like something fierce. But a few minutes later I felt my body swing left, and I looked to see that Officer Baxter had turned into the drive-thru lane of a McDonald’s.

  Detective Brannigan raised his eyebrows at me. “You said you were hungry. You like Happy Meals, or are you too grown-up for that?”

  Officer Baxter hooted. “A hot fudge sundae for me, as long as you promise not to tell Flora. She’d skin me alive.”

  Maria laughed. “Oh, jeez, Ray, as if she doesn’t already know how you eat.”

  “So what’s your answer?” Detective Brannigan asked me.

  I fumbled for the change in my pocket. “I love Happy Meals. But I don’t think I have enough money.”

  “Don’t worry about the money. Do you want a hamburger or cheeseburger?”

  “Cheeseburger, please.”

  “Two Quarter Pounders,” he called into the intercom after the others had ordered, “a cheeseburger Happy Meal, and a large coffee.” He pulled a ten from his wallet.

  My neck muscles relaxed a little. “Thanks, Detective Brannigan.”

  “You’re welcome. And you can call me Trey, okay?”

  The rhyme made me smile. “Okay.”

  As soon as I unwrapped my cheeseburger, I realized I wasn’t just hungry — I was starving. But I chewed slowly, savoring each greasy bite. I was so focused on the food that it took me a while to notice Trey studying me. I’d caught him doing it before, when we were at the gas station. At the time I figured he’d been thinking other thoughts, just looking my way without realizing. But now I knew he wasn’t, and it gave me a start. “What?” I asked.

  “Nothing,” he said, and turned away to take a bite of his hamburger.

  When we reached the police station, Trey led the way through an electronic door marked POLICE ENTRANCE ONLY. The lobby was bright with fluorescent lights and cluttered with desks and file cabinets. Half a dozen police officers worked on computers or talked above the noisy drone of a dispatcher’s voice coming from a scanner.

  Trey led us down a short, tiled hallway, past a door that said PROPERTY ROOM and another that said ROLL CALL AND BRIEFING. I’d only been in a police station once in my whole life — for a field trip in second grade. An officer had taken us on a tour of the building. He’d showed us how handcuffs worked and let us crowd into a real, live holding cell and gave us suckers when the tour ended. It’d been so cool and exciting. This time it wasn’t either. My neck started to tighten again.

  We climbed a flight of stairs, and Trey turned into an office with brown patterned carpet, an old mahogany desk, and a fish tank. I wandered over to look at the tropical fish. They were all vivid blues and oranges and yellows, and their gills billowed gently as they swam in and out of a jungle of fake seaweed.

  “What kind of fish is this fat orange one?” I asked Maria. But before she could answer, a man strode into the room. He was squat and bald except for a chin full of white whiskers. He came right over and offered me his hand. “Captain Pete Ross,” he announced in a booming voice that made my headache worse. He glanced around the room. “Parents?”

  “Poppy’s legal guardian is her grandmother,” Trey said. “But she’s been staying at the North Shore Children’s Center for the past week and a half. Her caseworker is on the way.”

  Captain Ross waved me toward a velvet-padded chair. Then he grabbed another for himself and sat down facing me, knee to knee. He winked at me. “Poppy, huh? Cute name. How’re you feeling about now, kiddo? A little nervous maybe? Uptight?”

  “I’m okay.”

  “Good. We’re all a friendly bunch here. Maria’s the only one you need to watch out for.”

  She wiggled her eyebrows. “Thanks, sir.”

  “No problem,” he said. “So, tell me, Poppy, how come you ended up at the kids’ center?”

  “I’m not sure,” I mumbled.

  Captain Ross raised his eyebrows, and I could tell he expected more explanation.

  “My grandma had a stroke,” I said. “She had to go to the hospital, and they wouldn’t let me stay home alone.”

  “How long have you lived with your grandmother?”

  “Since I was almost one.”

  “And your folks?”

  I jabbed my thumbnails into the chair’s soft velvet cushion. “They died a long time ago,” I said. “In Africa.”

  The captain’s smile faded a bit, but he didn’t give me the dropped-jaw, shocked look that most people did. “Africa?”

  “Yeah. In Botswana.”

  “Hmm. What kind of things do you like to do?” he asked.

  I relaxed my thumbs. “Anything with animals. And I like to draw, especially dogs.”

  “Yeah? I had a dog once, but the wife made me get rid of him.”

  The way he said it made my heart catch a little. “I used to have a dog, too,” I said. “A chocolate Lab named Lucy. But we had to find her a new home when Grandma Beth and I moved into our apartment.”

  I rubbed my eyes. It felt like tiny fists were punching them from behind. But then Miss Austin showed up a few minutes later, and things got even worse. Captain Ross made me rehash every single second of my afternoon, from the time I went into the gas station to buy the Snickers bar until Trey found me out behind the building. Sometimes he asked for the same information with two different questions, and even though he was recording me, he kept making me back up so he could jot things on a notepad.

  I couldn’t see Miss Austin or Maria, but I knew they were in the room from the occasional shuffling of feet or creak of a chair. Trey sat on the corner of the big desk, his arms crossed over his chest. He didn’t say a word during the whole interview, but he studied me a lot.

  When the clock above the fish tank read 9:15, Miss Austin cleared her throat. “Captain Ross, I really need to be getting home, and I’m sure Poppy’s exhausted. Is there a way we can continue this tomorrow?”

  “Absolutely,” he said. “We’re done anyway.”

  Trey glanced at me. “Captain, can I speak with you and Miss Austin in the other room for a minute?”

  Captain Ross seemed to hesitate for a few seconds before nodding. “Sure. Of course.” He patted my knee as he stood. “You’re a trouper, know that? A real trouper. You did great.”

  He led the way out of the room with Miss Austin and Trey following. Maria came up and massaged my shoulders. “You’re tight as a drum. I bet you’re more than sick of this.”

  “Sick to death.”

  “Want some hot cocoa?”

  What I wanted most was for her to keep massaging my shoulders, but I nodded anyway. “Sure.”

  “Okay. Be right back.”

  I stood and dug in my pocket for my ChapStick. A plastic grocery bag sat on the floor near Miss Austin’s chair, a pink-and-gray blanket peeking out the top. I walked over for a closer look. It was my flannel blanket — the one Grandma Beth had sewn for me when I was seven. Underneath were some clean clothes and my toothbrush, snow globe, and art pad. I stared at the bag with an unsettled feeling. Why would Miss Austin bring my stuff here? Did she know something I didn’t? I thought a
bout the long talk she’d had with Trey at the gas station, and that’s when I noticed the muffled voices of Trey and Captain Ross drifting down the hall. I couldn’t pick out the words, but neither of them sounded happy. A tingle of alarm zipped down my spine.

  Captain Ross said I’d done good, that I’d been a real trouper, so what was there to argue about? I peeked out into the empty corridor and then crept a few steps toward the voices.

  “… do it in a heartbeat if the budget allowed,” Captain Ross said. “But it doesn’t.”

  Trey’s voice was lower, harder to hear, but I caught something about three dozen kids being too many, and all he needed was one officer.

  “Move on, Brannigan,” Captain Ross said, clear as a bell. And then I heard soft footsteps, and I darted back into the interview room.

  Maria rounded the corner with two steaming Styrofoam cups. Her smile faded when she saw me. “Are you okay, Poppy?”

  I poked a finger toward the door. “They’re fighting about me. Trey and the Captain. I can hear them.”

  Her face relaxed. “Oh, no worries. They butt heads over all kinds of things.”

  I wasn’t sure that made me feel better. “They do?”

  “Sure. Captain Ross gets the final say, of course. But he’s always bantering with somebody, especially Detective Brannigan. They’re probably trying to decide what to do with you.”

  She said it so casual, like it was no big deal at all. But it made me feel like I was stumbling around in the dark, not sure the floor would be there when I took my next step. All I’d wanted was to see Grandma Beth. How did I ever end up at the police station, with two strangers trying to decide what to do with me? “What does that mean, exactly?”

  Maria gave a dismissive shrug. “Oh, you know, there’s always a bunch of red tape with these kinds of things.”

  I didn’t know, but I was too tired to ask.

  Maria held out a cup of cocoa, but I was still wearing Trey’s jacket, and I had to pull the sleeve back to find my hand. She smiled. “He must really like you. I don’t see him without that jacket very often.”

  The tips of my ears got hot, but it was a good kind of warmth — the kind that made me feel better. So did the cocoa. It was creamy and sweet and triggered a bright memory. Grandma Beth and me sitting in the backyard, studying our star maps while we sipped our own hot chocolate. See there, I heard her say, that’s Orion. The one that looks like Grandma’s big chili pot.