Free A Witness Above by Andy Straka Page B

she said.
    I waited.
    “Probably shouldn't have even called you.”
    I shifted in my chair. “Why not?”
    She let out an exaggerated sigh. “I don't know. I just didn't know who else to call.”
    We could start with her mother, but I let it go. “You and your friend cut out on me the other night.”
    “I know. I'm sorry. We had some important things to talk about.”
    “It must've been a shock to hear about Dewayne Turner. You knew him, didn't you?”
    She said nothing.
    “Okay. We'll come back to that. You want to fill me in some more on what happened today?”
    She nodded. “Like I told you, they stopped me out on the road. I know I shouldn't have tried to get away, but I thought they were going to give me another ticket for speeding and I've already got too many points on my license. They had their guns out, waving them in the air like I'm some kind of criminal. Made me get out of the car.” She closed her eyes.
    “What happened then?”
    “They made me turn around and put my hands on the car. One of the cops felt me up.”
    I looked at her skeptically.
    “Well that's what it felt like, Dad. Like he was violating me or something. I know. I know … they've got to check for weapons and stuff.”
    “What happened after that?”
    “They started asking me questions. Where was I going? Where had I been the last couple days? They had one of those dogs with them, you know, that, like, sniffs for drugs and they started searching through the car.”
    “Was that when they found the drugs?”
    “The dog must have found it. They were poking around under the car by one of the back wheels. I saw them pull something out. It was wrapped in white paper and plastic. I'm telling you the truth, I had no idea it was there.”
    “You ever seen cocaine before, Nicky?”
    She shrugged to indicate she had. What she'd seen though had probably been the sugarlike dust snorted or smoked by users, not the uncut pure stuff that had been hidden beneath her car.
    “You heard from your mom?”
    “Yeah, right.” She rolled her eyes. “She came down a couple hours ago and made a big deal about how shocked she was. She and her stupid boyfriend. I don't think she even believes me.”
    “I take it you two aren't getting along.”
    Another shrug. “You don't want to know.”
    “That's a lot of equity for someone to have stashed under your car. Where were you going when they stopped you?”
    She instinctively tried to fold her arms but was unable to with the cuffs on. “Same place you found me Friday. Over to Uncle Cat's to play pool.”
    “I didn't know you played pool.”
    She shrugged. “It's a decent way to meet guys.”
    “What time did all this happen?”
    “I don't know. Maybe four o'clock.”
    “And you knew nothing about the drugs under the car?”
    “How many times do I have to say it? No.”
    This was not the same Nicole who had helped me train Armistead to the lure a couple weeks before. We were on her home turf. Most parents, when faced with such uncertainty, at least had the advantage of working through prior difficulties, maybe some positive memories of happier times they could try to draw on. All I had were snatches of visits, a put-on happy face, a put-on smile. Nicole, in my mind, had somehow jumped straight from innocent honesty to the wary, dissembling adult seated before me. Absence had caused me to miss the in-between.
    “I'm in no position to lecture you, Nicole,” I said. “But don't you think you have better things to do than hang out in a place like Cahill's and shoot pool?”
    She clenched her teeth and chewed on a nail. “No.”
    “Your lawyer been in to talk with you yet?”
    “Sure,” she said. “With whiskey all over his breath. What a creep.”
    “What did he say about your case?”
    “Whatever. He was worse than Mom, trying to preach to me about the law, put the fear of jail into me. Wanted to know how something like that could be in my car and me not know anything about it.”
    “You tell