Page 7 of Shameless

This looks similar to Dad’s study back home in New York, just bigger and way more luxurious.

Talking about my father, I’m surprised when I find him waiting in the room with Scott Larson.

“Dad?” I ask. “Is everything ok?”

He nods, a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes stretching his lips. “Everything is fine, Lula. Since you’re on probation under my supervision, I asked to be present for your interview. Scott is here as our family attorney.”

What the actual fuck?

Why did he bring a lawyer? Does he think I have something to do with those dead bodies?

The thought hurts more than Tiffany’s dig earlier. I always expect Mommy Dearest to think the worst of me, but I thought Dad saw me under a different light. Even though we’ve been apart for three years, I thought Dad knew me much better than Tiffany ever will.

I guess I was wrong.

“Miss Turner,” the sheriff begins. “Can you confirm that your full name is Talulah-Lynn Turner, born on May eleventh in New York City, New York?”

I nod.

“Can you please answer my questions with a clear yes or no?”

I guess police interrogations are all the same, no matter the state you’re in. “Yes.” I answer. “That’s all correct.”

The Sheriff writes something down before setting his gaze on me. He’s a tall, slightly heavy set man with inquisitive brown eyes, probably around Dad’s age.

“Miss Turner, first of all can I ask you what brings you here?”

I play with the piercing in my tongue, scraping my teeth or the little metal ball. My fingers are itching to play with the little ring in my eyebrow, but I resist the urge. “Like my dad just said, I’m on probation, under his supervision. Dad and Mr. Andrews go way back and when he got an invitation to spend the weekend here, he thought it would be better to bring me along. You know, since the whole supervision thing.”

There’s a beat of silence before the sheriff continues. “That’s right. And your father called his old friend to get an invitation because two of his stepsons were involved in the big boat race organized by your host under the APB (American Powerboat Association) umbrella, is this correct?”

I nod, but catch myself before the sheriff can press me again and force out a “correct.”

“I didn’t realize the unusual family dynamics at play here until I spoke to Judge Johnston. Correct me if I’m wrong, but the good judge is your stepfather? The new Mrs. Turner is your stepmother and her sons’ biological father was one of the deceased, Mr. Branagh, owner of Star Thunders? But Mr. Branagh is also father to two other young men, Crew James, who was also one of the Star Thunders racers, and Frederick James who came here with the team under the direct supervision of another one of the deceased Trevor Braverman?”

“Correct.”

The sheriff scribbles something else in his notes. “So you have two sets of stepbrothers. The Cutler boys and Mr. Johnston’s son, Evan. Evan was dating the third deceased, Miss Maura Andrews. Did you have a chance to meet Miss Andrews before last night?”

I shake my head. “No. I hadn’t met Maura before last night. She was nice.” I stop myself before I can add that she was way too nice for Evan.

But then again, pretty much anyone would qualify as too nice for Evan.

“Did you like Miss Andrews? Would you say you two hit it off?”

I shrug. “Maura was friendly and fun. We danced, we did some shots and?—”

I stop talking when I realized the trap I just fell into. Even if I was of legal drinking age, the conditions of my probation stipulate that I have to be sober.

“Don’t worry, Miss Turner.” The sheriff says. “I’m not here to nitpick on the conditions of your probation. It’s safe to say that we have bigger worries at the moment. So walk me through your whereabouts last night and this morning.”

I stick to what Jules said and offer as much of the truth as I can without fessing up about why I left the party and what happened last night between me and Jules.

“Once the storm passed, Jules and I were looking for the hunting party. When we heard some shots, we rode toward the noise, thinking it was the quail hunt. But when we got to the stables, we realized what we had walked into.”

The sheriff sets his pen on the table, his shrewd gaze fixed on me. “So you and Mr. Cutler were the first to discover the bodies?”

The words leave my mouth before I can think better of it. “We weren’t. Rikki was the first to stumble into that mess. He found Trevor first and tried to help him. But the shooter was still there and chased him. He was terrified when we saw him.”

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