A Killing at the Creek by Nancy Allen Read Free Book Online Page B

happened to be on that bus. Let’s start at the beginning, with your name.”
    The teen provided his name, age, and date of birth, and told Ashlock that he lived in St. Louis, Missouri, with his mother.
    â€œWe need your mother’s information. Why didn’t you provide it at check-­in?”
    â€œBecause I’m emancipated.”
    â€œAt fifteen?” Ashlock asked with a dubious expression.
    â€œOh hell yeah.”
    â€œDo you mean there was a judicial determination? A judge declared that you were independent?”
    â€œI don’t know about judicial. But I’m totally independent.” The boy held up five fingers. “I. Do. What. I. Want,” he said, ticking off the words with the fingers of his right hand. “I crash at my mom’s place if I feel like it. If not, I don’t.”
    â€œThen your mother is still your custodian? Your parent and legal guardian?”
    â€œMan, I don’t know. I guess.”
    â€œWhat about your father?”
    Tanner huffed a humorless breath. “Yeah, what about him?”
    â€œWhat is his role in your life?”
    â€œHis role.” The young man shook his head, and tossed his hair back. “You tell me. Never met him.”
    â€œNever? Does he pay support?”
    â€œIf he does, I don’t know nothing about it.”
    â€œYour mother would be entitled to support.”
    â€œI don’t think he’s one of those support-­paying types.”
    â€œWhat type is he, then? What information did your mother give you about your father?”
    â€œWe don’t talk about him too much.”
    Ashlock sat, waiting for Monroe to say more. After a moment’s silence, the boy said, “Seems like she said he was doing time. That was a while back.”
    â€œSo you’ve been in your mother’s sole custody all your life.”
    â€œYeah. Except for foster care. Does that mean not in her custody? Because they never terminated.”
    Elsie made rapid notes as Ashlock leaned closer to Monroe. “By terminated—­you’re talking about her parental rights. Is that correct?”
    â€œYeah. They didn’t do that. She always got clean. Then I’d go back.”
    â€œHow many times did this happen?”
    â€œShit, man, who can remember? But this last time, since she left rehab, it’s been all right. Now that I’m fifteen, we kind of go our own way. It works out okay. We can hang, but we both do what we want. Right now, I’m seeing the country.”
    â€œHow’s that?”
    â€œHitchhiking. Going where the road takes me.”
    Ashlock set his pen down and regarded the boy with a level look. “And where has it taken you?”
    The boy snorted. “For a ride on that bus, I guess.”
    â€œTell us about that. Where did you first see the bus?”
    â€œAt the Diamonds truck stop. The one outside St. Louis. I figured I could get a ride from there. And there was this woman with a school bus. She was taking it to Arkansas.”
    The boy paused. He said, “Can I have one of my cigarettes?”
    â€œNo,” said Ashlock. “Tell us about the woman.”
    â€œOld. Ugly. Stupid.” The boy rolled his eyes at Ashlock’s solemn expression. “Okay, not that old. Forty? Thirty? You all look alike to me, old ­people, I mean. She wasn’t getting by on her looks, though. Tell you that much.”
    â€œHow did you get a ride with her?”
    â€œI just asked. She said I could come along. Said I’d keep her company.”
    â€œSo you wanted to go to Arkansas?”
    â€œHell, no. Arkansas blows. But I thought I’d get off at Springfield, maybe go to Branson, go down to the lake. Camp out.”
    â€œSo what happened?”
    â€œEverything was cool. With her and me. But she picked up another dude.”
    â€œAt the Diamonds?”
    â€œNo, at a gas station down the road.”
    â€œWhere?”
    â€œI