“You!” I point a finger at her. “You set me up again! You planted the earrings in my bag!”
Bill and Maria exchange looks. I sound like a crazy person. I’m sure that’s what it seems like to everybody in the store.
“Ma’am.” Bill places one of his meaty hands on my upper arm. “I’d like you to come to the back with me.”
I don’t want to go with him, but I don’t have much of a choice. So I let him lead me to a room in the back.
Chapter 28
The back room is about the size of a large bathroom. It looks like a former storage closet. There’s a folding table in the center and two folding chairs. The light overhead is flickering. Bill gestures at one of the folding chairs, and I sit down gingerly.
“I’ll be right back,” he tells me.
Bill leaves me in this tiny room alone and presumably goes to call the police. As I sit there waiting for him, I hear a buzzing sound from inside my purse. It’s a text message. I feel dread in the pit of my stomach as I pull out my phone.
Want to hear a secret? April Masterson is a shoplifter.
A second later, the photograph appears. It’s a picture of me standing by the entrance to the store with the security guard apprehending me. The panicked look on my face and the stern look on his makes it obvious what’s happening.
The photo was taken from inside the store.
A cold feeling washes over me. I imagine this photograph plastered all over the internet. Who would watch my show if this got out there? I’d be humiliated.
I stare down at the photo, gripped with the urge to delete it to keep anyone from knowing my humiliating secret. But that won’t help. Whoever sent me the photo still has it. This text message is my only proof I’m being harassed. I need to save it.
My hands are shaking as I call Elliot. I don’t want to tell him what just happened, but I need his help. Not only is he my husband, but he’s also my lawyer. He’ll know exactly what to do.
Naturally, he doesn’t pick up the first time I call. But after I call two more times, I finally hear his voice. “April, I’m really busy…”
“I’m about to be arrested.”
There’s a long silence on the other line. I’ve gotten his attention.
“Arrested? For what?”
“Shoplifting. But I didn’t do it.”
“What?”
“They found these earrings in my bag,” I say quickly. “They must have… I don’t know, dropped inside somehow.” I’m not going to tell him my theory about Maria right now. He probably won’t believe me anyway. And I can’t tell him about the text messages. “And now they’ve got me in this back room and they’re calling the police.”
“Jesus, April,” he breathes. He pauses for a long moment. “Okay, look, they’re not going to arrest you. It’s just a pair of earrings. They’re just trying to scare you.”
A lump rises in my throat. “He’s calling the police! I can hear him!”
“Right, but they’re not going to take you to jail for shoplifting some earrings. They’re probably just going to give you a summons.” He exhales loudly. “Whatever you do, don’t say anything. Don’t sign anything. Just come straight home.”
“But what if they take me to jail?”
“It won’t happen.” He sounds very confident. I wish I felt that confident. “But if they do, just call me right away. We’ll figure it out.”
“Are you coming home?” I ask in a small voice.
“Yes. As soon as I can.”
“Okay, thank you.” I squeeze the phone in my hand. “I love you, Elliot.”
“I love you too. Remember—don’t say anything and don’t sign anything.”
Bill comes into the room at that moment, so I hang up the phone. He is gigantic. His biceps are straining at the fabric of his button-down blue shirt. He could probably crush me with one hand if he decided to.
“Listen.” Bill sits down across from me at the folding table. The folding chair creaks threateningly under his weight. “I spoke to Maria. She’s saying we don’t have to press charges.”
Oh, thank God! “Thank you so much.”
“But obviously, you’ll be banned from the store permanently.” He reaches into his back pocket and retrieves a white piece of paper. “I’ll also need you to sign this statement.”
“Statement?”
He waves his hand. “It just says that you attempted to take an item, and you understand you won’t be allowed to return to the store.”
I looked down at the paper in front of me. I skim over the fine print, which seems to be essentially what he just told me. But Elliot just told me not to sign anything. “Um…”
Bill puts his hand on the paper and starts to pull it away from me. “If you don’t want to sign, I’ll go ahead and get the police to come.
I get a flash of panic in my chest. “No, it’s okay. I’ll sign it.”
I’m sure Elliot meant not to sign anything the police gave me. The best thing is leaving the police out of it.
I take the pen Bill offers me and scribble down my name. There. Now I can at least be done with this thing. Two accusations of theft in one day is enough for me, thank you very much.
“Can I go now?” I ask.
“Hold on. Just wait here another minute.”
I sit in the room, tapping my feet against the ground. I just want to go home already. I never should’ve come here in the first place. What was I thinking?
Bill is taking forever to return. I gather up my purse and get to my feet. I did what they wanted me to do—I’m getting out of here. But then I hear the voices outside around.
“Is she in there?”
“Yes. She signed this confession for us.”
My hands start to shake. What’s going on here?
Before I can get out of the room, they come inside. It’s a policeman. My mouth falls open. Why did they call the police? Bill told me if I signed that stupid form, they would leave the police out of it.
Bill was scary, but the police officer is even scarier. Not because he’s big, but because of what he represents. He’s wearing a dark outfit and there’s a gun on his holster. I can see it. And handcuffs. Oh my God, are they going to handcuff me? Am I going to be led out of Helena’s wearing handcuffs?
My legs are back to being jello. I feel myself swaying on my feet. I might pass out.
“April Masterson?” the officer says.
I open my mouth to say yes. But before I can get the words out, I start seeing spots in my vision. And the next thing I know, I’m on the ground.
Chapter 29
The police officer ends up being very kind to me. It could have been worse at least. Officer Clark helps me into a chair, asks Bill to get me something to drink （water）， and most importantly, he doesn’t arrest me. Even though Bill hands him my signed confession.
The officer even walks me to my car. He seems apologetic as he writes me the citation.
“It was all a misunderstanding,” I tell him one last time, hoping maybe he’ll rip it up.
“I’m sure it was.” Officer Clark pats me on the shoulder. “Happened to my wife once. She forgot to pay for something at a store. Honest mistake.”