Splintered (18 page)

“Agua, por favor.”

Hank glared at Rosalina. “You disgust me.”

He kicked the glass over. Rosalina started crying as she watched the wet trail of dirt rush underneath the cage. He stood there, fascinated at her desperation for water. She licked up the small pool, dirt and all.

Hank concentrated on the visual of Rosalina sitting in the cage with her legs spread open before him as he lay in bed. He ejaculated into a shirt he’d grabbed off the floor.

What I wouldn’t give for one more day with her.

Hank rolled over, closed his eyes, and fell into a dreamless sleep.

Maddy balked at the thought of the news crew filming at her house. She’d tried talking the producer out of the idea, but the woman was adamant about getting live shots of Maddy’s bus stop and of her neighborhood. Miss Larson also insisted the interview happen that same day. At least Maddy had been able to push her off until late afternoon when her mom hopefully would be home to sign the consent forms.

Although Maddy spent the entire day cleaning, no amount of elbow grease could take away the feel of poverty permeating the house. The sad, broken-down furniture still consumed the room, the patches of missing wallpaper still marred the walls. But it was better than nothing. Maybe the cameraman could take close-up shots and get more of Maddy in the frame than her surroundings.

The house’s two small closets were already threatening to burst, but Maddy managed to fit her mom’s bed linens and pillow on a high shelf in one. She knew Miss Larson would figure out her mom slept on the couch since there was only one bedroom in the house, but that didn’t mean she had to advertise it.

For a finishing touch, she lit scented candles and placed them throughout each room, all the while going over answers to the questions she thought Miss Larson might ask. “Why did you make up the story about two men attempting to abduct you?” The answer she’d rehearsed in her head sounded sincere, yet appropriately apologetic. If she could get the delivery just right, she’d be able to sway everyone back on her side. “What do you want to say to the kids out there who are being bullied every day at school?”
Maddy pictured herself sitting tall, locking eyes with the camera, and giving her most heartfelt answer.

She knew this could be a turning point. She simply had to seize the moment. She believed Sabrina, Malik, and all the other kids at school would watch the segment, or at least hear about it, and understand how much they’d hurt her. They would surely sympathize with her motives and hopefully stop harassing her.

Maddy pulled her phone out of her back pocket and sent a text to her dad. If he was in town, he might watch. Then maybe he’d see all the pain she’d been going through and rush to her side. Of course, he wouldn’t deserve forgiveness for having left her in the first place, but Maddy would be the bigger person in the relationship and accept his gushing apology. She shot off another text to Aunt Emma, suggesting they watch the segment together. She wanted to share her big moment with someone she loved, and the thought of sitting next to her mom and listening to her pick apart all her answers was more than she could handle.

Maddy remembered reading about some old guy in school who said everyone would experience fifteen minutes of fame sometime in their lives. She wondered if this was her time. Sure, it wasn’t on some grand scale like starring on
American Idol
or performing on
America’s Got Talent
. Still, she knew fame always changed lives for the better. Ask any kid at school. None of them wanted a high-powered career. They no longer cared about working their way up to the top of any corporate ladder. It was all about who knew your name now. Baseball stats weren’t the numbers discussed at the lunchroom; it was how many Instagram likes and Twitter followers you had. Maddy just knew her popularity trajectory was about to change course for the better.

She placed the last candle in her bedroom. Hopefully, the scent would mask the slightly moldy smell that seemed to linger in the house instead of turning it into one big cinnamon stink bomb. Maddy took one last look around at her well-made bed and tidy dresser.

It will do. As long as Mom gets home soon.

She looked at her watch. Through her last half-dozen texts, Mom had repeatedly promised she’d be home by three o’clock. She’d found a couple of people to cover the shift for the sick employees she was working for and said she’d leave as soon as one of them arrived.

Maddy would’ve rather done the interview alone, but since she was underage, Miss Larson insisted her mom be present. There were forms to sign.

Blah, blah, blah. At least I won’t have to worry about Mom hogging the spotlight since she’s crazy phobic about public speaking.

Maddy hoped reporter Karl Hurley interviewed her. He had a baby face with kind eyes that naturally drew people to him. Plenty of segments had showed him reaching out to the people he interviewed, resting his hands atop theirs while they related sad stories of foreclosure or chronic health problems. She wondered if his hands would be smooth or sweaty. As she wiped her palms on her pants, she decided to change clothes again.

After exchanging her print blouse for a solid green button-up shirt, Maddy smoothed out the material and looked at her reflection in the mirror. This shirt made her eyes look darker, more piercing.

Maybe it will help draw the viewer’s attention away from the gigantic pimple on the side of my nose.

She wished her dad was there. He always knew what colors looked best on her. She looked down at her jeans, rethinking the choice, when the doorbell rang.

Maddy rushed to open the door and found a woman blocking her front steps.

“Hi. Are you Maddy Eastin? I’m Shantel Larson.”

Maddy was surprised by how wrong she’d been about the visual she’d created in her head for this lady. With Miss Larson’s young, soft voice, she’d pictured a petite woman in her early twenties. Instead, the woman was butterball-round and old like her mom.

“Yes, I’m Maddy.”

Miss Larson gave Maddy’s hand an enthusiastic shake. At the sound of a door slamming, Miss Larson turned sideways. Maddy saw a man out by the street taking camera equipment out of the Channel 3 News van. Another man who was sitting in the passenger seat closed the sun visor like he’d been checking his reflection. When he got out of the van, he gave Maddy a slight head nod and smiled.

Who’s that guy?
Definitely not Karl Hurley.

As if picking up on her slight hesitation, Miss Larson said, “Rick’s our camera operator and that’s Alex Sanchez. You may not recognize him yet. He’s only been with the station for a couple of months.”

Great, I get stuck with the newbie. Guess my story didn’t rate Karl.

“Is your mom home?” Miss Larson asked.

Maddy stopped biting on her cuticle. “She should be here any—oh wait, there she is now, pulling into the driveway.”

“Great. We’ll get all the necessary papers signed, and Rick will set up in . . .” Miss Larson tried to look past Maddy and into the house. Maddy stepped back inside, allowing her room to maneuver in. “He’ll set up in the living room. Good? Good.”

The newbie anchor and her mom stood outside talking beside the car.

At least our car isn’t a piece of shit.

She watched the reporter listen to her mom, a smile plastered on his face. Her mom seemed to be setting the man straight somehow before she let him walk inside the house. Maddy was mortified.

“Mom, come in the house. They need to set up.”

The newbie took his cue and headed for the front steps. He shook Maddy’s hand and offered her an easy smile. Somehow, though, his expression didn’t match his eyes. He seemed to be sizing her up, evaluating her in some unknown way. As he headed inside, his cologne lingered, wrapping around her throat like an invisible hand.

Miss Larson returned to the living room from the back of the house. “I think we should set up the interview in here.” She’d obviously scouted out the other rooms and, after her snooping expedition, decided the whole place was equally crappy.

Maddy, still unable to find her voice, could only nod.

“Sure,” the newbie said, “but I want a shot of Maddy walking to the bus stop first. Maddy, grab your backpack for me. Let’s give this an authentic feel.”

“But it’s not dark out. When I leave the house in the morning, it’s always dark.”

“That’s okay. It’s only a reenactment. Anyway, darkness won’t play as well on TV.”

She looked over at her mom, standing near the open door. Her mom offered her a confident smile that helped Maddy regain her own confidence.

“Rick, make sure to get some good neighborhood shots before all the looky-loos show up,” Larson said.

“Right, boss.”

Maddy’s mom hadn’t noticed the camera guy standing behind her, and she jumped when he answered the producer.

At first, Maddy felt stupid walking to the bus stop with the camera trailing her. But on the third take, Maddy noticed Sabrina’s car driving by. She couldn’t see through the tinted windows, but Maddy imagined Sabrina inside, watching with jealousy pumping through her veins. Maddy’s smile turned megawatt, and her walk grew bolder.

Miss Larson told Maddy to go inside and freshen up while Rick filmed Alex’s intro. Maddy wanted to stay and listen, but the woman’s facial expression made it clear she was in desperate need of a new coat of makeup. Late-September days in Florida were killer on a girl’s looks.

An extra swipe of deodorant, a fresh coat of foundation, additional hairspray, and Maddy was ready. She hurried back into the living room, where the cameraman pointed her toward the couch. She sat down and shifted around uncomfortably, wondering if she should’ve changed out of her damp shirt. Rick stood behind a camera situated on top of a tripod. He looked up at Maddy, then down at the viewfinder. The frown on his face deepened. He grumbled to himself as he shuffled behind the back of the couch and adjusted a light he had set up behind Maddy’s left shoulder. The brightness of the room bothered her eyes, and she asked for a tissue.

Her mom handed her one and bent over to whisper in her ear. “Are you sure you want to go through with this?”

Maddy figured her mom must have misinterpreted the reason for her request. She’d only asked for the tissue so her watery eyes wouldn’t mess up her makeup again. “I’m fine, Mom.”

“Ma’am, you’re casting a shadow. Do you mind?” Rick said.

“Oh, right.” Lily brought a fluttering hand to her chest. “Sorry.”

Lily resumed her place against the far wall. Maddy knew her mom was uncomfortable with the whole situation. She had her hands clasped in front of her, but kept twiddling her thumbs.

Probably stressing out about all the mess.

The camera guy had taken over the room, moving the end tables into the kitchen and scooting the couch over for better lighting. All the hard work Maddy had put into straightening up the place had gone right out the window.

Finally satisfied with the lighting, Rick said, “We’re ready, boss.”

The reporter sat in the chair on Maddy’s right. One camera would capture both his profile and hers. A second camera was positioned to give a straight-on view of Maddy’s face.

“Okay, Madison—”

“It’s Maddy.”

“Right, right. Maddy. I already taped the opening segment outside your front door, so now I’m going to ask you some questions. Don’t worry, they’re easy. Just answer them as truthfully as possible and don’t worry if you make a mistake—just keep talking. We’ll edit later.”

Maddy couldn’t help but smile. Her head was spinning from the speed at which everything was happening. She wanted to ask some questions, but didn’t want to look like some dumb kid. She wanted to be taken seriously.

Then she heard Miss Larson start counting down. With every number spoken, Maddy’s heart pounded faster. “In three, two, one. Go.”

On cue, the reporter smiled. This time it reached into his eyes. He seemed like a whole different person. “Maddy Eastin, it is so good to meet you. I’m glad you reached out to us about your situation.” Alex sat forward and took her hands in his. “I understand you want to talk about the cyberbullying attack launched against you by the kids at your school, is that right?”

Alex’s hands weren’t soft at all. They were cold—cold as ice. She withdrew her hands from his and cleared her throat.

“Yes, yes I do.”

“We’ll definitely get to that, but first I have to ask what possessed you to make up such a horrendous lie about someone trying to abduct you?”

Maddy’s mouth dropped open, surprised by his nasty tone. Her mind went blank. This was nothing like how she thought it would go. She squinted through the bright lights, trying to look at her mom. Lily’s fingers were pinching the bridge of her nose. She looked embarrassed. Maddy knew her mom would be no help.

As usual, I’m on my own.

Early Sunday morning, Emma rushed out the door and went back to hunting down her murder victim’s boyfriend. As it turned out, the case was an easy one to solve. Witnesses saw the guy flee the apartment and bloody fingerprints at the scene matched the ex-con’s. The problem was trying to apprehend him. Every time Emma showed up at a known hangout of his, she learned the guy had just left. It was like he had ESP or something—always one step ahead.

It wasn’t until late that afternoon that she found him hiding out at a second girlfriend’s house. The look on the woman’s face when she heard what “her man” had been up to was priceless. Emma couldn’t tell whether she was most angry about the fact that the guy had been stepping out on her, that he’d killed his other girlfriend, or that he’d gotten caught.

The chase and subsequent booking had kept Emma busy until after four o’clock. When she finally dragged herself back to the condo again, all she could think about was Maddy. Her goddaughter had finally texted her back yesterday, suggesting they hang out and watch the evening news together. She thought it was an odd request, but figured maybe it was just Maddy’s way of trying to reconnect.