{ LIVING THE POGUE LIFE }

{16}

Kiara's dad met Brie and Kiara at the Sheriff's station the following morning. Brie and Kiara had gone over what she was going to tell them multiple times in the car, but that didn't stop that nauseous feeling from settling in Brie's stomach.

She just had to keep repeating her version of the story in her head. What else could she do right now?

They wanted me to open the register. I refused. They pulled the knife. The door opened. They got spooked and ran. End of story.

Peterkin came out into the reception area where Brie was waiting with Kiara and her dad and took her into her office. She gestured for Brie to sit down and then took her own seat behind her desk. Brie shuffled uncomfortably in her seat, clenching and clenching her fists.

"So I heard that you had a knife to you, Miss Landon," Peterkin said, coolly, "You're lucky you came out of it pretty much unscathed."

"Yeah," Brie gave a tight smile, lightly touching the mark on her neck. "Pretty lucky."

"Now," the Sheriff sighed, leaning forwards on her elbows. "I'm not going to play dumb here. I'll get straight to the point. Those men weren't there for the cash. They were there for this."

She placed the compass on the desk and Brie's chest tightened. This wasn't going to go down like she and Kiara had planned.

"Am I right?" Peterkin persisted.

"Uh, I don't-" Brie stammered, "I dont know what-"

"Yes, you do," she insisted, "I need you to be honest with me so I can help you and your little friends."

Brie dug her fingernails into the skin of her palm and chewed her bottom lip aggressively. She bit the skin a little too harshly and that familiar metallic taste filled her mouth. Get it together, Brie.

"They were looking for John B," Brie admitted, "They want that compass, and they think that John B still has it."

"Okay," the Sheriff said, slowly, "So they don't know that John B gave it to me. That's good...for now."

"What do I do if they come back?" Brie asked, unable to mask the fear in her voice.

Feeling trapped, like she was being hunted every second of every day, was something that she was hated. Her anxiety levels were at an all time high, paranoia completely off the charts. She couldn't handle any more of that.

The Sheriff reached over and patted her hand sympathetically. Brie tried to smile back, but it felt like more of a flinch.

"You tell them that you dont have it anymore," the Sheriff told her, "You say that the police have it, and that they're not going to find it here, okay? I'll do what I can to keep these men off your back."

Brie nodded thankfully. She took a shaky breath and sighed, as if a weight had been lifted from her chest.

"I'm not going to ask you to describe them," Peterkin said, "I've seen them for myself. And I'm not going to ask you to tell me why one of them have their arm in a sling. But that wouldnt be anything to do with you now would it?"

Brie chose not to answer, in fear of saying something stupid and incriminating herself. The Sheriff kept her stormy eyes focused on Brie as she fidgeted.

"Good," Peterkin concluded, standing up from her seat. Brie followed suit, standing on shaky legs. "Then we're done here. You can get back to your friends and that boyfriend of your's."

"Oh," Brie said, shaking her head in shock, "I dont have a boyfriend?"

The Sheriff gave her a knowing look and smirked."But there's something going on with you and the Maybank kid, right?"