Phil
What a nightmare.
How could things go wrong this fast? After the policemen carted him off to the station, his mother had scrambled in behind them a half-hour later. They hadn’t allowed her to see him right away, and when they finally did, he couldn’t bear the disappointment painted in the lines on her face. The same distress slumped his father’s shoulders, and he didn’t even want to think about how his younger sister was dealing with the situation. He’d now been locked up for forty-eight hours and was edging toward full-scale panic.
Officer Harrison sat across from him and opened a file folder. He scanned the papers inside as if they contained the most interesting details he’d ever read. When he cleared his throat, Phil looked up. His head was heavy and his chest tight, as if the walls were crushing him.
“Based on the data we found on your laptop, we have additional questions.”
“Really?” Phil rubbed his eyes, which were grainy from lack of sleep. His belly gurgled and sweat broke out on his body, reminding him that he needed another shower. He wasn’t cut out for being locked up. “What data?”
“It seems you’ve been dabbling in places you shouldn’t.”
Phil’s fingers plowed through his hair and he stared at the table. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Sit up.”
The officer’s voice came at him like the crack of a whip, and he did what he asked without hesitation.
Stabbing a finger on the table, the policeman said, “In case you don’t understand, you’re in serious trouble, young man.”
Phil wanted to make a smart comeback but didn’t have it in him. He’d been before a judge, who had charged him with sexual crimes. Everything had been a blur. All he grasped was that somehow the police had gotten hold of files from Jason’s computer and came knocking at his door.
They had confiscated his laptop before they’d taken him away. He was relieved that nothing on his personal computer could link him to anything they accused him of doing. The only question was what else they had found and said he’d done. He’d always known Jason was stupid, and here was the proof. He’d wait out the police and refuse to answer any questions—that’s what he’d been told to do.
The lawyer his father hired shifted next to him and propped both elbows on the table. “What do you mean about my client being in places he shouldn’t?”
Brushing one hand over his hair, Officer Harrison said, “I’m glad you asked. Somehow, your client logged into the University of Miami’s database and helped himself to information pertaining to several students.”
“That’s a lie,” Phil shouted. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Eric Randall gripped his arm tight. “Be quiet. Let me handle this.”
Facing the officer, Mr. Randall continued, “Neither my client nor I am aware of this new accusation.”
“Which is why we’re trying to sort this out and why he’s still in custody.” His attention shifted to Phil. “It would suit you to make this easy on yourself.”
Adjusting his wire-rimmed glasses, Randall said, “Frankly, he doesn’t have the know-how to do anything at that level.”
“I guess we’ll find out.” Officer Harrison sat back in his seat. “It’s curious that we’ve found information on Jason Blalock’s devices that leads to your client and nothing at his end.”
“Which tells you something, doesn’t it?” Randall threw Phil a warning look. “The deceased influenced my client. As I’m sure you know by now, Blalock wasn’t an angel.”
“And neither is your client.”
Phil’s fists curled and his temper threatened to get out of hand. He wanted to punch the policeman in the face. That was wishful thinking, because he didn’t need any more trouble. When the policeman’s sharp gaze rested on him, Phil forced himself to act unbothered. By now everyone would know he’d been arrested. He doubted his mother had stopped crying since he’d been in jail, and the gnawing in his stomach wouldn’t give him a break.
His family’s situation was the driving force behind the steroids. Bad investments. Expensive schools. Needing money put him in this position, but he’d made a choice. Another round of sweat soaked his T-shirt and his feet bounced on the floor. If he was lucky, the police wouldn’t have a reason to visit his home again. He’d stay quiet, let Randall do his work, and hope everything blew over. If good fortune was on his side, his story about Jason influencing him would hold up. The other business was puzzling. He’d never tried to access any information other than research material at the university, but what he couldn’t change, he wouldn’t worry about.
All of this will pass. The mantra played in his head as his breathing grew shallow.
The policeman studied Phil as if he had some other accusation he wanted to lay on the table.
Phil stared back, displaying bravado he didn’t feel.
Tapping a pen on the papers, the officer smiled at him. “Okay, so you were influenced by Blalock and you know nothing about the hacking incident.”
“That’s right,” Phil said, lifting his chin.
Harrison gave him a half smile, then tipped his head to one side. “Perhaps you can shed some light on a surveillance video. From Jamaica. Your spring break trip, in case you can’t remember.”
While his stomach twisted into a tight knot, Phil sat still.
“In that video,” Harrison continued, “you were part of a group of students assaulting Alexia Leighton.”
For a moment, Phil’s brain froze, and he stood in a tunnel as the wind created havoc with his hearing. Then the bottom dropped out of his stomach. He heaved and rushed toward the bin in the far corner of the interrogation room.