Stealing Bradford

Casey wiped her nose and continued to cry. “I’m so stupid, so freaking stupid. I don’t know why I did that. It seemed so funny at the time…just a little joke…no big deal.”

“Well, it’s a big deal now, Casey.”

“I know.”

“And it could turn into an even bigger deal if something bad has happened to Taylor.”

Casey looked at DJ with real fear now. “Do you think?”

“I don’t know. But be realistic; it’s a distinct possibility. I mean a girl like Taylor, a girl who is used to being comfortable, who likes her little luxuries, her clothes, her cosmetics, her silk pajamas…to run off on her motorbike without taking a thing…well, it does make you wonder.”

“I wish I could undo what I did,” said Casey. “If I could just turn back the clock, I swear I would be smarter this time. I wouldn’t do it. It was so stupid…so incredibly stupid.”

“Well, you can’t turn back the clock,” said DJ. “All you can do is decide what’s the right thing to do now.”

“I know I need to confess,” she said. “I’m just not sure I can do it on my own.” She looked at DJ. “I wouldn’t blame you if you said no, but would you come with me?”

DJ put an arm around Casey’s shoulders now. “I’m totally mad at you for what you did to Taylor. But I still love you. You’re still my friend. And if it’ll help, I’ll go with you.”

Then DJ walked over and looked out the window to see that the police car was still parked in front. “In fact, maybe we won’t have to go in. It looks like Detective Howard is still here. Do you want me to go get him?”

“I guess…” Then Casey frowned. “Do you think he’ll have to cuff me and take me away in the back of his car?”

“I honestly don’t know.”

“I suppose I deserve that kind of humiliation.”

“Do you want me to get him or not?”

Casey nodded. “Yes, I just want to get it over with.”

So DJ went to find the detective who was still talking to Mrs. Carter. He was telling her to make sure that all the girls stuck together in case there was a predator in the neighborhood. Then he asked when Taylor’s parents would arrive.

“Her mother is flying out tomorrow,” said Mrs. Carter as she twisted a handkerchief in her hand. She turned to DJ. “Did you need something, Desiree?”

“There was something else we wanted to tell Detective Howard,” said DJ. “If you’re done here, that is.”

“I have no more questions.” Mrs. Carter sighed dramatically. “This is all so very upsetting.”

Soon DJ and the detective were back in her grandmother’s office, and Casey immediately began to pour out her confession, with tears and all.

“I’m so sorry I did it,” she said finally. “I can’t believe how stupid I was.” Then she actually held out her wrists like she expected to be handcuffed. “I really do deserve to go to jail. I’m ready.”

He nodded in a somber way, but DJ thought she almost saw a twinkle in his eye. “Although you’ve just confessed to what might be considered libel, slander, or defamation of character, it will be up to Miss Mitchell to press charges. But I would like you to make a complete statement. Would you mind coming down to the station?”

“In your car?” she asked with fear-filled eyes.

“If you like. Or you can have someone bring you.”

“Okay.” She glanced at DJ. “Can you take me?”

“Sure.”

“Right now?” asked Casey.

“I don’t see why not.”

So it was that DJ drove Casey to the police station and waited as she made her statement. DJ wondered if Casey needed an attorney, although nothing like that had been mentioned. And Detective Howard had made it clear that Casey was not under arrest.

“Do you think Taylor will press charges?” asked Casey as DJ drove them back to Carter House.

“I don’t know, but I suppose it’s a possibility…if she comes back at all.”

Casey let out a long sigh. “I know you might not believe me, DJ, but I really do want Taylor to come back and be okay, even if it means she presses charges and I go to jail.”

“I don’t think you’d go to jail,” said DJ as she pulled into the driveway. “Maybe juvenile detention though.”

“Well, I don’t care. I just hope that she’s okay. I might not like her, but I don’t want her to be hurt…or dead.”

DJ felt a shiver run down her spine. Even so, she tried to act nonchalant and confident as they got out of the car. “Taylor’s not dead,” she told Casey. “She’s probably in the house right this very minute. Probably sitting next to my grandmother and asking her to pass the nonfat dressing.”

But Taylor wasn’t there. And she was still gone later that evening. All the girls had gathered in the living room, saying that they were going to watch a movie, but all they did was sit around and talk about Taylor, trying to think of where she’d gone and what had happened to her. And the more they talked, the more grisly and depressing the whole thing became.

Finally DJ stood and held up her hands. “Look, you guys, we can go around and around about this, but we’re not doing anyone—not Taylor and not ourselves—a bit of good.”

“She’s right,” agreed Rhiannon. “If we want to help Taylor we should pray.”