adrenaline from earlier, Libby felt dog tired. She wanted to colapse into bed and put this awful episode behind her.
“I’m afraid that’s not possible. This is a crime scene and it wil be investigated for the next few days, maybe longer.”
“Where wil I go?” Libby sat up and peeked through the wire divider protecting the officer from the dangerous suspects trapped in the backseat.
“That’s what I’ve been trying to determine. You’re too old for foster care.” The officer seemed disappointed.
“Foster care! What are you talking about? I’m almost seventeen. I can take care of myself. Al I need is a place to stay until I can get back in the house.” There was no way they were putting her in some foster home. The only things she ever heard about foster homes were stories about weird people who took in kids for the state money and the kids were often abused.
“Calm down,” the officer interrupted. “As I said, you’re too old. Foster care is designed for younger kids, not older teens.”
“How soon until my aunt is out? I’l be fine until she posts bail or whatever she needs to do.” Libby didn’t know how she’d come up with money to post bail and could barely believe she now lobbied to stay with her aunt. What a strange twist of fate. Now maybe Aunt Marge needed her. How long should she let her sit locked up before helping her out?
“I’m afraid your aunt wil be tied up in the legal system for quite some time. In addition to growing marijuana with intent to deliver, which is a misdemeanor crime, she wil likely be charged with child neglect and contributing to the delinquency of a minor.”
“Child neglect? Delinquency of a minor? Come on, I’m fine.” A sense of dread choked her. Things weren’t so bad here. Didn’t they see how clean she kept her room?
“Look at where you’re sitting right now. A responsible adult would not have put you in this situation.” Officer Decker pierced her with a knowing look. Libby slumped against the seat, temporarily out of words to argue.
The officer turned forward, picked up her radio and clicked the side button. “Officer Decker at number 4319 County Road T.
Need Del County Social Services for system placement of a sixteen-year-old female.”
The radio crackled. “Local placement isn’t possible until after the holiday weekend. You’l be looking at transfer placement to a group home in Milwaukee County.”
Libby shot forward, grabbing the metal divider that kept her from the horrible radio. “What do you mean group home?” She gripped the thick metal and shook it to get the officer’s attention.
“You can’t send me to a group home. Please, I can’t go there.” Her dread exploded into ful-scale panic. Bad things happened at those places.
“Headquarters, have Social Service contact me on the private line.” The officer glanced at Libby as she spoke, then replaced the radio piece to the console.
“Please listen. My dad needs to know where I am. If I’m not here, he won’t know how to find me.” She rattled the divider, wanting to crawl through to the other side and knock sense into the stubborn woman.
“I’m sorry, but there’s no other way. You said yourself there isn’t anyone else to step in. No family, no neighbors, no friends.
You’l be fine,” she said in a tone that told Libby she didn’t believe her own words. “Sit tight, I’l be back after finishing up your transfer arrangements.” She opened the door to the patrol car.
“Wait! Don’t go.” She needed to convince the officer to let her stay at the farmhouse. She couldn’t let them send her away.
Officer Decker offered a strained smile but exited the car, shutting the door firmly. Libby pounded on the metal divider like a criminal gone berserk. She imagined she’d live with her aunt until graduation or until her dad came back. This was beyond horrible.
Her life was spinning into a total disaster. How could her dad leave her to this?
Chapter 17
“Pass the gravy, would ya buddy,” Peter said to his young cousin Ryan.
They’d gathered around the Thanksgiving table with the large extended family. Peter wondered about Libby stuck with her crazy aunt. He doubted a turkey dinner was involved. Al he could picture was her alone thinking he dumped her. He tried to cal her using another phone, but the asshole, Garrett, had canceled the cel service to her number. Now Peter had to wait until the next day to get Libby’s service reinstated and to replace his phone.
“This