Carlson Melody: Stealing Bradford

“Yep.” DJ nodded as she closed the bedroom door behind her. It was still early, but she had to talk to someone. And Rhiannon was the world’s best listener. “She got in late last night and she’s still asleep. Where’s Casey?”

“In the bathroom.” Rhiannon pulled her blue bathrobe off the end of her bed and wrapped it around her shoulders. “Did Taylor say where she’d been?”

“No. But she was soaking wet when she came in so I can only assume she rode home on her Vespa.”

“Yeah. It was pouring down rain last night.”

Rhiannon knocked on the bathroom door, calling out Casey’s name. “She’s got to know,” Rhiannon said to DJ as they waited.

Casey emerged, wrapped in a towel with her short wet hair sticking out in all directions. She stared curiously at DJ.

“What’s up?”

“Taylor’s back.”

Casey’s already large brown eyes now grew huge. “She’s back?”

“Yep.” DJ quickly filled her in on the late night arrival. “And she’s okay?”

“As far as I can see. She’s asleep right now.”

“Did you tell her…about me? I mean, that I’m the one who did the MySpace thing?”

“No. She wouldn’t even let me talk to her.”

Casey sank into the window seat and slowly shook her head. “I guess this is when the stuff hits the fan, huh?”

“I don’t know.” DJ glanced nervously at Rhiannon, hoping she could say something encouraging.

“It’s going to be okay,” Rhiannon said to Casey in a soothing tone.

“How can you say that?” Casey looked at Rhiannon and then DJ. “I committed a crime! Libel and slander!” It was true. Casey had posted faked pictures of Taylor on a website and then put up signs at school so everyone they knew would look at them.

“No one is prosecuting you,” said DJ.

“Not yet. But that could all change today.” Tears slid down Casey’s cheeks. “I can’t believe I was so stupid.”

“None of us can believe it,” said DJ.

“It seemed like a great idea at the time,” said Casey, wiping her nose on the edge of her oversized towel. “I thought I was being so clever—getting even with Taylor. She deserved it after how she hurt Rhiannon.”

“Revenge never works,” said Rhiannon.

“Tell me about it.” Casey sighed.

“And worrying about it won’t change anything,” said DJ.

“That’s easy for you to say.” Casey stood. “I’m the one who could end up in jail.”

“You’re a minor,” said Rhiannon.

“Okay, juvenile detention.” Casey tightly shut her eyes. “That’s even worse.”

“That would only happen if Taylor presses charges,” said DJ. “Remember what Detective Howard told us the other day?”

“Of course she’ll press charges,” declared Casey hotly. “She’s probably already spoken to a lawyer. I’m toast.”

“You don’t know that,” said DJ.

“I need to get dressed,” said Casey quickly, heading back to the bathroom. “If I’m going down, at least I can have some clothes on.”

“You’re not going down, Casey.” DJ made an attempt at a laugh, but she knew it sounded fake.

After Casey returned to the bathroom, Rhiannon looked at DJ. “Do you think she’ll really have to go into juvenile detention?”

DJ shrugged. “It seems crazy, but I suppose it’s possible. According to Detective Howard, she did break the law. Taylor has the right to press charges.”

“We need to be really praying about this.”

DJ nodded. “Yeah.” She put her hand on the door handle and looked sympathetically toward the bathroom. “Well, I need to get ready for school. And I need to tell Grandmother what’s up so she can notify the police.”

“What about Taylor’s parents? Do they know?”

DJ shrugged. “Guess that’s Taylor’s business.”

DJ felt a mixture of emotions as she returned to her room. On one hand, she was relieved that Taylor was back—and safe. On the other hand, life would probably get complicated again. Casey was right; the stuff would be hitting the fan soon—and just after Casey had finally made an effort to fit in here at Carter House and after DJ’s grandmother had decided not to send her home after all. That could all change now.

As DJ finished getting ready for school, she prayed for Casey. She wasn’t even sure what to pray for, so finally she just asked God to bring something good out of this mess. She had no idea what that might be, but she felt certain that God could do it.

“You done in there yet?” asked Taylor in a groggy voice.

“Sure,” said DJ as she opened the bathroom door up more fully. “I didn’t know if you’d even be up yet. Are you planning on going to school today?”

Taylor shrugged and then pushed a dark strand of curly hair out of her eyes. Even after her late night, she still looked gorgeous. “I don’t know.”

“I’m going to let my grandmother know that you’re back.”

Taylor rolled her eyes. “Yeah. Whatever.”

DJ controlled herself from saying something sarcastic back at her. She knew it wouldn’t do anyone any good to get into a fight with Taylor today. If anything, she felt like she should be very placating, very kind and understanding. Maybe if she played her cards just right, she could induce a bit of Taylor’s sympathy toward Casey. Possible, though unlikely.

“She’s back, isn’t she?” whispered Inez with dark, curious eyes. The housekeeper had stopped DJ on her way to Grandmother’s room. “I saw her little green motorbike outside, and I know that means she’s back.”

DJ nodded. “Yes. She’s back.”

“Does this mean trouble, you think?”

“I don’t know. Right now I just want to inform Grandmother.”

“I’ll tell Clara to set another place for breakfast.”

“Thanks.” Then DJ knocked on her grandmother’s door. Although her bedroom was on the same floor as the girls, it was in the back of the house, with the stairway acting as a sort of buffer to the other rooms.

“Yes?” Grandmother opened the door, still wearing her rose-colored satin robe, as she peered blurrily at DJ. “What is it, Desiree?”

DJ quickly told her the news.

Grandmother blinked. “She’s here now?”

“Yes.”

“And she’s all right?”

“She seems perfectly fine.”

“Did she inform her parents?”

“I don’t know. We haven’t had a chance to really talk. I just wanted to let you know so you could contact the police and stuff.”

“Yes. Yes, I’ll get right to it.” Grandmother smiled as she clasped her hands in front of her. “Oh, I’m so glad that she’s back.”

DJ nodded, but felt unsure.

“She’s such a beautiful girl,” said Grandmother.

DJ wondered what that really had to do with anything. “Well, yeah.”

“And I have such plans for her.”

“Oh.” DJ got it. The old grooming-the-girls-to-be-models idea was poking its ugly head up again.

Grandmother put a thin wrinkled hand on the side of DJ’s face. “Oh, it’s not that you’re not pretty too, Desiree. You most certainly are. But that Taylor—” The old woman smacked her lips like she were about to devour a piece of chocolate cream pie, or knowing her, more likely a carrot. “That Taylor—well, she has the makings of a real supermodel.”

“Right.” DJ stepped away now. “So, you will let the police and everyone know?”

“Oh, yes, of course.” Grandmother nodded in a vague kind of way that suggested that she had already forgotten about Detective Howard and Taylor’s parents, as if she had simply dismissed all of that as insignificant compared to the fact that Taylor had the “right stuff” to be molded into some kind of supermodel. Talk about delusional.