Fox Afield (Madison Wolves)

by Robin Roseau

  It took two cops to pull the girl off of me. They got enough out of her to have a pretty good idea what happened.

  I was quiet while they arrested me, pinned me to the ground, put handcuffs on me, and threw me into the back of a cruiser. But they were gentle. One of the cops whispered to me, "I'm sorry." I nodded but kept my mouth shut.

  But I was scared.

  They kept me in that squad car for a long time. Ambulances came, and I watched as the assholes were hauled away to the hospital. More police arrived as well as what passed for the local press. Somehow I went unnoticed and avoided having my photo taken. A man and woman arrived and rushed to the girl. From their reactions, I could tell these was her parents.

  The girl talked to police before she was helped into an ambulance along with her mother. The man stayed behind, but his eyes crossed to the squad car, and his look was one of gratitude. He yelled at the cops; I could hear every word.

  "We don't have a choice," one of them finally said. "She messed them up pretty badly."

  They argued, but the police kept repeating they didn't have a choice. Finally the man pulled out his phone and made a call then walked over to the squad car. The cops actually let him talk to me. He sat in the front seat and turned around.

  "My name is Robert Callahan," he said. "Thank you for saving my daughter."

  I didn't say a thing.

  "Good," he said. "You know how to keep your mouth shut. You are legally required to give them your name and address."

  "I don't have an address," I replied.

  He looked at me sharply, just taking in my appearance. He nodded once. "Don't worry about that, then. Give them your name, don't say anything else, and don't fight them. My lawyer will get you out."

  I didn't have an answer to that, and he turned around and started to climb back out of the car.

  "What's her name?" I asked him.

  "Bree," he said. "Her name is Bree. She is fourteen." He looked back at me. I felt a tear crawling down my face.

  "I should have run. After," I said. "What is going to happen to me?"

  "What is your name?" he asked gently.

  I considered lying. I think he read it on my face.

  "You haven't done anything illegal yet," he said. "But if you give a false name to the cops, that's illegal. If you lie, that's also illegal. Do you understand?"

  "Michaela," I told him. "My name is Michaela Redfur."

  "Thank you for saving my daughter, Michaela," he said gently. "My lawyer is Annette Peters."

  "I can't afford a lawyer," I said.

  "You won't have to," he said. "Remember, your name and nothing else. Trust the lawyer."

  I nodded. "I hope Bree will be all right. I stopped it before-"

  "I know," he said. The look he gave me told me, no matter what happened next, I had done the right thing. "Thank you."

  I nodded.

  He climbed out of the car, and five minutes later I was on my way to the police station.

  * * * *

  The cops were gentle, and I didn't resist. Two of them pulled me from the car and walked me into the police station. They led me into an interview room. Then one held me while the other released my handcuffs, but they cuffed me to a hook in the table.

  "I'm sorry," he said while he did it.

  I nodded.

  They left me alone for thirty minutes. I was immediately bored and scared, very, very scared.

  I wondered what they would do. I really didn't know. It's not like I had any experience with human laws or police procedures. Everyone thinks everyone knows what the police do, but I didn't. I had never watched television or gone to the movies, so I hadn't been inundated with cop shows or any of that. I didn't know about my rights or anything else. I didn't know if they would hurt me or what kind of cage they were going to put me in.

  But if I saw a chance to escape, I was going to take it.

  Finally, two cops came in. One was a woman.

  "We're sorry," she said.

  I didn't answer her. Robert had told me to keep my mouth shut, and it sounded like good advice to me.

  They introduced themselves. I didn't bother learning their names. But I asked them, "What are you going to do to me?"

  "We're going to ask some questions," the woman said. "First we need to read your rights."

  "They did that," I said.

  "We're going to do it again," she said. And she pulled out a little piece of paper and read it to me. She asked if I understood, and I said yes.

  "What is your name?" the man asked. I told him. Then he asked for my address.

  "I don't have one," I said.

  The woman spoke kindly. She explained I was legally required to give this type of information.

  "I don't have an address," I said. "Do I look like someone who lives in a nice house?"

  "Where do you sleep?" she asked.

  I looked at her, considering. This felt like a safe question. Sleeping in the woods wasn't illegal. "Usually the woods," I told her.

  The two of them looked at each other then at me.

  "Social security number?" the man asked.

  I stared at him blankly.

  "We have to ask," he said. "Social security number?"

  "I don't know what that is," I admitted.

  My answer frustrated them, and they didn't believe me.

  "You aren't required to answer our other questions," the woman said eventually. "But you need to tell us who you are."

  "I did," I said. "My name is Michaela Redfur. I sleep in the woods. I don't know what a social security number is. I am pretty sure that means I don't have one."

  The two left for a few minutes then came back in.

  "Look," the woman said. "We can figure out what happened. Those guys are known assholes. Miss Callahan told us what they tried to do. And she told us you kicked their asses. We are trying desperately to find any excuse to let you go. But you aren't making it easy."

  I stared at her. "I told you what I can. Do you want me to lie? I can make up an address. I can make up a social security number if you tell me what it is. I don't have one, or if I do, I don't know what it is. Redfur isn't a common last name. Can't you do a computer search?"

  She sighed. "What happened tonight?"

  I didn't answer her. The two of them tried multiple times to get me to talk to them. I stared at my hands. The cuffs weren't a problem, now that my hands were in front of me. I could slip right out of them by shifting. But I thought getting out of the room might be trickier. I wasn't sure if I was locked in, but I thought I probably was.

  They tried asking me harmless questions. "Where were you born?"

  I looked up. "I don't know if I am required to answer that or not," I said. "I have given you my name. I would give you an address and a social security number if I had either of them. I don't think I have to answer any other questions without a lawyer."

  "It doesn't need to get down to lawyers," the man said. "Just tell us what happened so we can let you go."

  The woman gave the man a hard look. I decided she was on my side.

  "I think I'll wait for a lawyer," I told him.

  They left me alone.

  I was bored, bored, bored, and I really wished they would come back and ask more questions. Concentrating on not answering them was better than sitting in that room alone.

  Finally, the door opened and a woman walked in. I looked up at her. She stopped in the doorway, staring at me for a moment before stepping forward. The door closed behind her.

  "You are Michaela Redfur?" she asked.

  I studied her. She was average height, maybe five-five or so. If I were standing, I would have to look up at her, but I had to look up to almost everyone. She was dressed casually and looked like she had been pulled out of bed, but her clothes were expensive. I guessed her age to be mid-forties.

  "Yes," I finally told her.

  "I am Annette Peters. Robert Callahan has asked me to help you."

  "You're a lawyer?"
>
  She nodded. "I can not represent you without your permission. Do you want me to represent you?"

  "I can't pay you," I said. "And how do I know this isn't some sort of trick?"

  She studied me for a moment. "Would you trust Robert?"

  I thought about it. "I don't know. I guess if he told me you were a lawyer, I would."

  She smiled, pulled out her phone, and made a call. "Robert," she said. "Ms. Redfur is justifiably skeptic I am here to help her. I am putting you on speakerphone."

  She set the phone down on the table.

  "Michaela," came Robert's voice. "Annette is the lawyer I told you about. You may tell her everything, and she is not allowed to tell anyone else without your permission."

  "You told me not to say anything to anyone."

  "You can trust Annette," he said. "I promise."

  I stared at the phone then stared at the woman now seated across the table from me.

  "Is she a good lawyer?" I asked.

  "Yes," he said. "She is very, very good."

  "I can't pay her," I said.

  "Don't worry about that," Robert said.

  I looked at her and said, "Please don't let them put me in a cage."

  "I'll do my best," she said. "We'll get back to you, Robert." She hung up the phone then withdrew a piece of paper from her briefcase. "This is simple," she said. "It is just an agreement that I am representing you." She slid it across the desk. "Can you read?"

  "Yes," I said. I read the agreement. She put a pen in my hands and positioned the paper so I could sign it. As soon as I had, she slipped the paper back in her briefcase, pulled out a pad of paper, and said, "Tell me what happened."

  I told her everything.

  Then she began asking questions. "They each have at least one broken bone."

  "Not true," I said. "One only has a broken nose and a dislocated shoulder. One has a broken leg. The other has a broken wrist and a broken arm."

  "How much of that damage was necessary?"

  "I don't know," I said. "There were three of them and one of me. I didn't think the girl-"

  "Bree," she interjected.

  "Yes, Bree, but I didn't know her name then. I didn't think she was going to help. I am one small woman against three large men. I didn't hold back. Was I obligated to do so?"

  "No," she said. "How much of the damage happened after they were incapacitated?"

  I stared at her, not understanding the question. I finally told her that.

  "What did you do after they stopped fighting back?"

  "I pulled Bree away from them and tried to calm her down. Then the police came."

  "I mean, how much did you hurt them after they stopped fighting?"

  "I didn't," I said. "The whole fight was maybe thirty seconds, maybe less. I didn't touch them after that."

  "What did you use for a weapon?" she asked. "They didn't find a baseball bat or anything like that. Was there someone else?"

  "No, just the three of them."

  She sighed. "Did someone help you?"

  "Oh. No."

  She stared at me. "How much do you weigh?"

  "I don't know."

  "You look tiny."

  "I'm stronger than I look."

  "You really did all that to them just like you told me?"

  "Yes."

  She sighed. "Look, Michaela, if you lie to me, I can't help you."

  "I'm not lying. The cops told me Bree said I kicked their asses. They were going to rape her, maybe worse. I stopped them. And I'm the one sitting here in handcuffs."

  She smiled. "Oh don't worry; they are going away for a long time." She tapped her pen against her lips. "You did all that yourself. You know the cops think there was someone else."

  I looked away. "I did it myself. Do I have to prove it?"

  "No," she said. "You do not."

  "Did I break any laws?"

  "Not if what you've said is all true. Where did you learn to fight like that?"

  I didn't understand that question, either.

  "Military? What?"

  "Oh," I said. "No. Nothing like that. I just- I've had to defend myself a lot. They weren't that tough, and I surprised them. I've dealt with far worse."

  She stared at me. "Have you ever been arrested before?"

  "No."

  She spent another twenty minutes asking me questions, basically trying to decide where I was lying. Finally I told her, "Ms. Peters, if you think I am lying, why are you even here?"

  "Ms. Redfur," she replied. "If there are things you haven't told me, and the police find out about them before I do, it will be that much harder to keep you out of that cage."

  "I have not lied to you," I told her. "Not once. I don't know what else you might be looking for, but I haven't lied."

  "You really mean that."

  I nodded. "Mr. Callahan said I should trust you. I am trusting you. I don't do things in halves."

  She studied me. "All right," she said. "Let's get you out of here. I think this will be only a few minutes, but if the officers are stubborn, it may be a while. Do not answer questions from anyone else unless I am with you."

  I nodded.

  She stood up, collected her things, and knocked on the door. It opened from the outside, confirming to me I was locked in, and then she was gone.

  I listened. I heard yelling. Annette laid into the cops for even thinking of arresting me. She went on for a while, eventually turning it into a bunch of lawyer speak I didn't understand. I grinned. She was an ass-kicker too.

  I wondered if she liked girls. I found out later: no, she did not. She was married to a nice man and had two teenage children who went to school with Bree.

  After a while, I couldn't hear anything else, and then the door opened admitting Annette and the lady cop. The cop was grinning.

  "Ms. Peters," the cop said. "I have never been more pleased to see a lawyer walk into this precinct house than when you did." Then she turned to me. "We are letting you go, but everyone is a little afraid of you. If I release your cuffs, are you going to go all postal on us?"

  I looked at her, not understanding. I looked at Annette.

  "Michaela, she wants to know if you are going to become violent. I presume the answer is 'no' and if so, you should answer her."

  "Oh," I said. "No. Of course not."

  The cop pulled out a key to the handcuffs and released my wrists. I rubbed them. She asked me, "Where did you learn to fight like that?"

  "Do not answer that," Annette said.

  "Hey," the cop said, holding her hands out. "I'm on your side. Bree is a sweet girl, and those guys deserved everything they got, and then some."

  "I didn't give them-"

  "Quiet," Annette said.

  I shut my mouth.

  "No," the cop said. "You didn't give them even the tiniest bit of 'and then some'. You used exactly the amount of force that was required and not the tiniest bit more."

  Annette smiled. "Exactly. Time to go, Michaela."

  I stood up and walked around the table towards her, trembling a little with leftover fear. She took my arm and felt my quivers. "Come on," she said quietly. "Let's get you somewhere you'll feel safe."

  I let her lead me out of the interview room. She pulled me into a bathroom and looked into my face. "The press are outside," she said. "You are not to say a word. I do all your talking. Do you understand?"

  I nodded.

  "We aren't going to tell them a thing. I am very practiced at saying 'no comment'. They may try to get a rise out of you. You will keep your mouth closed."

  I nodded.

  "Good." She studied me, then she pulled a scarf from her briefcase. She went to wrap it around my hair.

  "No!" I said. "I'm-" I pulled away. "I'm dirty. You'll ruin it."

  "You have very distinctive hair, Michaela," she said. "Let me hide it." Then I stood still and let her do what she wanted. She wrapped my hair in the scarf then put a large pair of sunglasses over my eyes.

  "It's
still dark," she said. "You may not be able to see well. But I think we can make you just a little harder to recognize. I'll have your arm and won't let you go until you're in my car."

  She examined me once more, decided she had done the best she could with what she had, and led me out of the bathroom and out of the precinct house. There were people waiting. Annette shielded me from the press with her body, and then the lady cop and two other cops were there, too. They cleared a path, and no one got a clear photo of me. I kept my mouth shut, Annette told them, "No comment," and soon I found myself handed into a very nice automobile. Annette climbed in and we drove away.

  "Where are you taking me?" I asked her.

  "The Callahans'," she said. "If that is okay."

  "You can just let me out anywhere," I told her. "Thank you for your help."

  "They want to thank you," Annette said.

  "Mr. Callahan already did," I said. "People like that don't want people like me in their house."

  She glanced over at me then returned her gaze to the road. "You really believe that?"

  I didn't say anything.

  "Michaela, you saved their daughter. And then you held her and comforted her until the police arrived."

  "You kept me out of a cage," I said. "We're even."

  The fancy lawyer didn't have an immediate response. We drove another block before I said, "Anywhere is fine."

  She glanced over again and smiled. "Excellent," she said. Three blocks later she turned into the driveway of a very nice house.

  I studied her. "Where are we?"

  "The Callahans'. You did say 'anywhere is fine'. This is anywhere."

  I tried to exit the car, but all three of the Callahans had been waiting for us, and they were at my side of the car before I could climb all the way out. I immediately found myself pulled into Bree's arms.

  "Thank you! Thank you!" she said, and she started to cry.

  I didn't know what I was supposed to do, but I put my arms around her and held her loosely.

  "Bree," I said. "You don't want to do this. I-"

  "You saved me," she said. "Thank you."

  And then Bree's mother was there, hugging both of us, and she was crying too.

  I tried pulling away. I wasn't used to touching like this, and I knew I smelled horribly. I knew a human's sense of smell wasn't as good as mine, but even they should have been able to smell me and see how dirty I was.