Free Black Tuesday by Susan Colebank Page B

sue-happy a place for the Deavers family not to take you to civil court. And with all the news coverage this story’s gotten, the people in the red”—she glanced at her notes again—“Toyota and black Mercedes definitely know your family’s got money.”
    Val picked up the papers, tapped them on the desk to straighten out the edges, and returned them to the folder, which she snapped shut. “Even with this dandy notebook you’ve given me, it’s time for me to ask you a few questions. Up for it, Jayne?”
    Jayne nodded numbly, still mesmerized by Val’s pendant and the fact that all of this was a misdemeanor.
    That maybe she still had a chance at Harvard. But did she deserve to go to Harvard?
    â€œBased on the toxicology reports from the hospital, you had no drugs or alcohol in your system. So that’s good.” She flipped open the notebook. “Was there anything else distracting you that day?”
    Jayne thought back to the notebook with Gen’s red-ink edits. “Nothing more than the usual distractions.”
    Val laughed. “Spoken like someone whose mom does incriminating interviews for a living. But I’m not the cops. Was there anything distracting you? Just in case there are witnesses that will report otherwise.”
    Witnesses. The guy in the Diamondbacks hat. The voice coming from the area by her feet. “I was answering my cell phone.”
    Val wrote it on the yellow pad of paper. “That’s not an offense in Arizona. Even if it was, you’d still be in misdemeanor territory.”
    The way Val kept throwing “misdemeanor” around, like what had happened was no big deal, made Jayne feel better and worse at the same time. Better because she felt like maybe she could still have a future.
    Worse because being charged with a misdemeanor didn’t seem right for making someone brain-dead.
    Her left leg started jiggling, and if Tom had been around, he’d tell her she was driving him nuts.
    The phone on Val’s desk buzzed. Depressing a button, the woman barked, “Yes?”
    â€œPolice Officer Bradley is here, Ms. Shetland.”
    â€œGreat. Send him and Mrs. Thompkins in.”
    Jayne breathed. In-two-three-out-two-three-four-five. It didn’t help. She still wanted to run as fast as these stupid heels would let her. Her cool, white, down-comforted bed would be perfect.
    A familiar-looking man opened the door. He was the officer who’d given her the thumbs-up sign at the accident. He stepped aside to let her mom in first.
    â€œOfficer Bradley?” Val greeted him with a handshake and a gesture to take a seat. “We spoke on the phone already.”
    Val ignored Jayne’s mom. Seeing this, Jayne felt oddly better. It was nice that for once her mom wasn’t the center of attention and that the woman representing Jayne’s future in a court of law wasn’t wasting her time brownnosing Gen Thompkins like half of the Phoenix population did.
    â€œJayne, I’m here to make sure that the officer doesn’t tread on any of your rights while we discuss the day the accident occurred. I will speak on your behalf if he asks a question that I do not want you to respond to, okay?”
    Jayne nodded. Her throat felt like she’d just run a half-marathon without any water. Val poured her a glass of water without saying anything and briefly squeezed the shoulder of her good arm before retreating behind the desk again.
    â€œMiss Thompkins.” Officer Bradley flipped to a page in his notebook while Jayne sat with her clasped hands squeezed between her thighs. She now knew what it felt like to feel as close to throwing up without actually throwing up. “Today is your only meeting with me. Next week, they’ll probably get you on the juvie court docket where you’ll appear in front of a judge who’ll give you a court date and a probation officer.”
    â€œProbation