Free Etta Mae's Worst Bad-Luck Day by Ann B. Ross Page B

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    I couldn’t believe it! Mr. Sitton was coming down to the station and sitting with me while Clyde asked his questions. And I didn’t even have to mention Mr. Howard and our ongoing, but threatened, relationship. Which I wouldn’t have done anyway, not wanting to have someone of Mr. Sitton’s caliber lined up against me.
    Still, I could hardly believe it. I’d just told him that I was being questioned about something I didn’t know anything about, and he asked if I had two hundred dollars. When I said yes, with thanksgiving in my heart that his fee wouldn’t be any more than that, he’d said, “I’ll be there in twenty minutes. Meanwhile, keep your mouth shut.”
    Clyde put me in the interrogation room, which badly needed some helpful hints on decorating. There was a scarred wooden table, four metal chairs, one of them bent so bad it sat lopsided, and nothing else. A window faced the hall, but it was covered with blinds, so I couldn’t see what was going on in the station.
    After walking around and around that pitiful-looking table for ten minutes or so, I was ready to jump out of my skin. I’m the nervous type when I don’t know what’s going on.
    Then the door opened and Wendell stuck his head in.
    “Thought you might want some coffee,” he said, holding out a Styrofoam cup. “Didn’t know what you take, so I fixed it with cream and sugar.”
    “Thanks.” I walked over and leaned against the door beside him, standing hip-shot to rest up from all the pacing I’d been doing. I took the cup, tilted my head, and gave him a mournful smile. It was all I could manage. “This is awful nice of you, Wendell. I sure won’t forget it.” I sipped at the hot, super-sweet stuff and looked up at him, wondering how he could help me. “This is just the worst night of my life, being dragged in here when I haven’t done a thing. You don’t know what it means to have someone as nice as you around.”
    He flushed red and said, “Well, ah, you know, not everybody that’s brought in here has done anything wrong. So don’t you worry. I’ll, I mean, we’ll look after you. I mean, well, Bobby Lee, he’s my training officer, and I figure, well, you know.”
    “I do know, and he’ll appreciate it, just like I do. Now, Wendell, I don’t want to ask you to do anything illegal or anything like that, but if my lawyer can’t get me out tonight, could you see your way to letting Bobby Lee know I’m here? He’ll find out tomorrow anyway, when he comes on duty, but I thought maybe he’d like to know tonight.”
    “Why, sure, I could do that. I’ll call him right now. Well, as soon as Clyde goes to the bathroom again. He’s about ready to come out now, but he’ll go again in a little while.” His face turned even darker at the thought, I guess, of Clyde in the toilet. It wasn’t a picture to thrill me, either.
    “Whatever, but let’s wait and see what my lawyer can do first. If he clears me, as he ought to do since I haven’t done anything, then there’s no need to bother Bobby Lee. But just knowing that you’re out there, ready to help me out, makes hope spring eternal in my breast.”
    I smiled at him, sort of sad-like. “You like poetry, Wendell?”
    “No’m, I mean, well, when you say it, it sounds real nice. I guess I better be going, Clyde’ll be flushing any minute. Don’t you worry now, me and Bobby Lee’ll look after you.”
    “I feel so much better, knowing you’re on my side.” I smiled a real sad smile, looking up into his face. “You go on now, I don’t want you to get in any trouble.”
    When he left, I sat at the table with the coffee and tried to drink it, not wanting to hurt Wendell’s feelings. That’s almost the worst thing you can do to a man. I won’t mention the very worst. Drinking bad coffee was little enough to ask. I needed all the friends I could get.

Chapter 10

    Hearing a commotion out in the hall, I stood up and faced the door. I’d never