There was a noise upstairs. My father left the front door and went up the staircase to check on my mother. I took up his position blocking the entryway.
&n
bsp; Trent fidgeted on the front steps. "I know it was stupid, but I circled around and I saw the cops busting the party."
"I really don't want this to be my problem," I said. "I tried to warn Owen and he did not want to listen to me."
"I know, and I think you're right," Trent said. "I just wanted you to know I think your theory was right. Anya and Jasper left just before the cops arrived. I saw the cops taking Owen out to a squad car. They arrested him."
My heart sank. So much for staying out of it. "The police would not have done that unless they found something on him. Either Anya or Jasper planted something on Owen."
Chapter Twenty-Two
Quinn
I hung on to the front door and wondered what I should do. If someone had slipped marijuana into his pocket, then the police had finally found what they were looking for. It would not matter if he had tested clean for drugs. The searches and the possession were against him. It was a thin case, but the police would have something on him now.
"I just thought you should know," Trent said. "Owen's a big boy, he can take care of himself. It's really just a misdemeanor. He probably resisted and that's why he was taken in."
"That makes it worse, don't you think?"
"He made his own decisions," Trent said.
"Not if his roommate planned to set him up in order to take the heat off himself," I objected. "This could ruin Owen's career, at the very least his credibility. He'll probably lose his sponsors."
"But, honey, you don't have to fix it," Trent said. "You don't have to fix everyone."
"There is a huge difference between trying to help and trying to fix someone," I said. "Trust me, I know."
As if to illustrate what I had said, there was a commotion upstairs. "Just trust me," I could hear my father saying.
I waved Trent out the front door and promised I would call him someday. He left and I shut the door just before my mother flew down the stairs.
"Who was it? Was it the waitress? I didn't tip her well enough, I know I didn't," she said.
"Mom, are you okay? What are you talking about?" I had seen the wild look in her eyes before, and it froze my heart.
My father came down the stairs and caught her in his arms. "Barbara, darling, I told you that I took care of the tip. There is nothing for you to worry about. How about I call the restaurant and tell the manager what a great job the waitress did? That'll fix it," he said.
He steered her back up the stairs. My mother's worries were descending into gibberish, yet he responded with calm, soothing answers as if he could talk her out of it. I knew he had been through this dozens of times before, but it bothered me how he thought he could just brush it aside. She needed help, that was not normal, but my father was determined to fix it on his own.
When he came downstairs 10 minutes later, I was still waiting in the foyer. "What did Trent want? It sure was a surprise to see him here. Boy trouble?"
I cringed at his easy tone. "How's Mother?"
"Oh, you know how she gets. Just overtired. She'll be fine after she rests," he said. He brushed past me and headed for his office.
I followed him and stood in the doorway before he could close the door. "She just needs to rest?"
He refused to look at me. "She didn't sleep well last night. And we spent most of yesterday out running errands, so of course she's tired. Everything's fine."
"Then, can you help me?" I asked. "Or, more specifically, can you help Owen? I think he's in trouble with the police."
"Quinn, just because I'm a criminal lawyer does not mean I'm going to help every loser that gets himself in trouble."
"Owen's not a loser, you know that," I said. "His roommate was selling drugs and when neighbors started noticing, he decided to make Owen take the fall for him."
"Then if Owen's innocent, he has nothing to worry about."