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I roll my eyes at Flynn. “Not if you eat a whole bag of cotton candy and do a shot of whiskey before you ride it.”
“Let me guess. You wanted to find out if you’d throw up.”
I beam at him. “I didn’t.”
“We’re here,” Lucas announces as he parks his cruiser in back of the police station.
“It’s time for the perp walk. How does my hair look?”
Flynn tucks a strand behind my ear. “Wild.”
“Awesome!”
Lucas opens the door and motions for Flynn to get out before helping me. Getting around with handcuffs on is harder than I thought it would be. I should probably practice.
“Can I apply some lipstick before you snap my picture? And maybe wash my hands, too?”
Lucas grunts. “I’m not taking your picture.”
“I’m not getting a mug shot? Why not? Wait. Does this mean you’re not fingerprinting me either? This is not the full experience.”
“You’re lucky I handcuffed you.”
“Are you at least going to put us in a cell?”
Lucas opens a door and motions me inside.
“Is this an interrogation room?” I ask as I study the room. It’s pretty bare. There’s only one table and four chairs.
“Hold on.” I rush to the mirror on the wall. “Is this a two-way mirror?”
Lucas unlocks my cuffs. “Wait here.”
“For how long?” I shout after him. “Do I get a potty break? Water? Prison gruel?”
He shuts the door behind him without answering any of my questions.
“How rude.”
Flynn pulls out a chair. “Have a seat. We’re going to be here a while.”
“Really?” I plop down. “Do you have experience being arrested?”
“Getting caught smoking in the back of the bus with Stacey wasn’t the only reason I had to work at the hardware store every Saturday for a year.”
I know it wasn’t, but I don’t know all the crap he pulled as a teenager. “Tell me more.”
He runs a hand through his hair. “I don’t enjoy revisiting those times.”
I grasp his hand. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t pry. I know how difficult it was after your mom died.”
His lips turn up in an almost smile. “My mom was the best.”
“I don’t remember her very well.” I was eleven when she died.
“She used to dance around the kitchen when she was making dinner. She’d sing the lyrics as loud as she could.” He smiles. “She always got the lyrics wrong. I explained how she could look up the lyrics online but she didn’t care.”
“She sounds fun.”
