Shot Girl by Karen E. Olson

Author:Karen E. Olson
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub, pdf
Publisher: Penguin
Published: 2008-11-04T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 25

My first thought was not what you’d expect, which should’ve been why Ashley Ellis and Vinny were playing phone tag. That was my second thought. My first thought was that I could call Ashley, get a few quotes from today’s shooting, and still make deadline for the final edition. I shut down the computer and closed the cover before rummaging in my bag. I pulled out my cell, a notebook, and a pen. I punched in Ashley’s number.

"Hello?" The voice wasn’t as breathy this time; she obviously didn’t recognize my number on her screen and probably thought I was a wrong number.

"Ashley Ellis?"

"Yes?"

"This is Annie Seymour, with the Herald. I saw you this afternoon, after the shooting. I was wondering if you could answer a few questions for me."

The silence was long enough for me to wonder if she’d disconnected the call. My pen was poised above the notebook, waiting.

"Hello?" I asked.

"Yes, I’m here." She paused again. "What do you want to know?"

"Michael Jackson, the guy who shot at you, what is the nature of your relationship with him?"

"What do you think?" she asked sarcastically.

Fair enough. "What were you arguing about when he pulled the gun?"

"Is this going in the paper? I don’t want anything in the paper," she said.

I wished now I’d paid more attention to her last night when I saw her at Bar with Vinny. "Where do you go to school?" I asked.

The change of subject threw her, but she sounded relieved when she said, "Southern."

"What year?"

"Senior."

"What’s your major?"

"Education." She seemed more comfortable now.

"How long have you and Michael been dating?"

"We’re not dating or anything. He’s still in high school." She spit out the last two words like they were poison.

"Why did he feel it necessary to shoot at you?" "He, well, wanted, well . . ." Her voice trailed off. "I really don’t want anything in the paper."

"Witnesses said you told him to fuck off." She hadn’t hung up yet, so I figured I could keep firing questions at her.

"He was annoying me."

And if she was stupid enough to keep answering, I wasn’t going to stop. "That’s pretty strong language for mere annoyance."

"Okay, listen, but you can’t put this in the paper. Okay?"

I figured I could eke something out of this conversation on the record, anyway. "Sure. What happened, Ashley?"

Silence for a second, then, "We met a couple months ago at Bar when I was working. He looked older—he didn’t tell me how old he was. We went out a few times. But he thought it was serious. I didn’t." Her voice was flat, her words sounding scripted. It was probably the same speech she gave the cops this afternoon.

"So that’s why he shot at you?" I tried. "Because you didn’t want to get serious?"

"Yeah."

"Someone told me that you screwed him over on some deal." It was a little bit of a stretch, but I wanted to see where it went.

"I, well, I don’t know what you mean."

I switched gears again. "I saw on the press release that his address was listed over at Brookside, the housing project.

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