Minor in Possession Read Free Page A

that asshole tells me. ‘She’s pregnant, that’s all.’”
    He paused, waiting for me to say something, but I couldn’t think of a damn thing. I was too busy being grateful as hell that Michelle was his daughter instead of mine.
    â€œPregnant, that’s all,” he repeated bleakly. “Jesus!”
    We sat there again until the silence was as thick as the darkness. Eventually, Owens heaved his ghostly figure out of the chair and stumbled to the window where he stood staring back up the path, his arrow-straight silhouette backlit by cloud-shrouded moonlight.
    â€œWhy isn’t he here?” he asked plaintively.
    The menace had leaked out of his voice as anger-fueled adrenaline dissipated. “I thought everybody was supposed to be back in their cabins by lights-out. That’s what the damn brochure says. You know, that full color one full of happy horseshit they send out to all the families.”
    â€œThat may be the official rule, but Joey Rothman doesn’t much concern himself with the rules,” I offered quietly. “Anybody’s rules.”
    We were silent again until once more Owens felt compelled to speak, his voice husky with suppressed emotion. “It must have happened right after she got here. The doctor says she’s about three weeks along, and she’s only been here four weeks.”
    â€œI know.”
    I remembered all too clearly my own first two fitful nights in the detox wing. The endless nighttime hours had been haunted by the distressing sound of Michelle Owens in the room just up the hall where she whimpered endlessly into her pillow. I hadn’t felt terribly sorry for her at the time. I had been too busy feeling sorry for myself. I did now.
    â€œYour daughter and I were in the detox wing at the same time,” I said.
    In the darkness I saw the whitish blob that was Guy Owens’ face turn from the window to face me. “That’s right,” he said, “you’re the one who’s a cop, aren’t you? Misha mentioned you in one of her letters. She never talked about Rothman, though, not once.”
    â€œYou’re sure it was Joey?”
    â€œAfter I talked to the doctor, I went to her cabin and demanded that she tell me. I just came from there.”
    â€œAnd what did she say?”
    â€œWhat the hell do you think she said? That it was him—Rothman. She said she was sure he’d marry her. Like hell!” Owens’ hard-edged outburst ended with a snort. I couldn’t tell if the sound was part of a laugh or a sob, and I had the good grace not to ask.
    For another several minutes we stayed as we were, him standing by the window staring out and me sitting on the edge of the bed, each lost in our own thoughts.
    â€œWhat are you pissed at him about?” Owens asked finally, as though it had just then penetrated that Joey Rothman was on my shit list too.
    â€œThe same reason you are,” I replied evenly. “He was nosing around my daughter after dinner tonight. I’m waiting up to let him know she’s off limits.”
    â€œYou mean beat hell out of him, don’t you?”
    â€œIf that’s what it takes. Some people learn slower than others. With some it takes remedial training.”
    â€œAnd Misha thinks that sorry jerk is going to marry her? For Chrissake, how dumb can she be?”
    â€œShe’s how old? Fifteen? How smart were you at fifteen?”
    â€œSmarter than that,” he snapped. “You can damn well count on that.”
    He turned back to the window and looked out.“Wait a minute. There’s a light on in one of the other cabins.”
    I scrambled out of bed, hurried over to the window myself, and looked up the path. A moment later the first light went out only to be followed by the light coming on in the cabin next door.
    â€œOh, oh,” I said. “You’d better get the hell out of here fast. Lucy Washington must be doing a bed