to bed. But first I’m gonna talk to the kid over there about what happened to him.”
“How do we know you’re telling the truth?” someone wanted to know.
I’m sure Rafe wanted to roll his eyes. I rolled mine, since no one was filming me. Rafe probably didn’t, since he had several cameras trained on him. His voice was vaguely irritated, though. “You don’t. But you can watch me do it. And if I do something you don’t like, you can put my face all over social media. You’re prob’ly gonna do that anyway.”
Probably. And while part of me was a little worried about what might come of it if they did, the other part rejoiced in the fact that it would make it even more impossible for him to ever go undercover again. He’d spent ten years doing undercover work before we got married, and I’d happily take anything that would stop him from doing it again.
Even unwanted social media attention.
The cell phones swung toward the car as Rafe headed that way. I wondered whether they could see me through the windshield, and decided they probably couldn’t. But I’d refrain from picking my nose, just in case.
Rafe stopped in front of the young man, by now quivering like a young birch. “Name?”
The kid opened his mouth, and had to clear his throat. “Curtis.”
I waited for Rafe to ask him his last name, but he didn’t. “What happened, Curtis?”
“I was in the store down there,” Curtis said, pointing down the street with a finger that shook. “It was me and a couple of friends. And we… um…”
He trailed off, flushing.
Rafe sighed. “What did you take?”
“Nothing, man!” He shook his head frantically, and his hair, twisted into spirals on top of his head, swayed. “I didn’t take nothing. But my friends, they grabbed some chips and sodas and stuff, and then they ran. I didn’t even know they were gonna do it, man! And they left me there…”
He wound down again, sounding sincerely baffled that his friends would do such a thing. I winced. Rafe probably wanted to.
“Lemme guess,” he said now. “Your friends got away, you got caught, the owner called the cops, and Tucker showed up. When you said you didn’t do nothing, he didn’t believe you.”
Curtis nodded.
“Did he ask you for the names of your friends?”
Curtis winced. “No. Guess we didn’t get to that part.”
Rafe nodded. “I ain’t gonna do that, either.”
Curtis looked relieved, until Rafe continued, “You’re in enough trouble already. Besides, by the time I tracked’em down, the evidence’d be long gone.”
Curtis nodded, looking glum.
“I’m not likely to be as understanding next time, though,” Rafe added.
Curtis looked up at him, and he elaborated. “If I get another call like this, and I find out that you’ve let your friends talk you into another trip to the market, whether you steal something or not, I’m not likely to be understanding of you putting yourself in this situation again. You’re either lying to me—”
“No, sir!” Curtis shook his head. “No, I ain’t.”
“—or your friends planned this without telling you, and then they left you holding the ball while they ran away. Either way, I don’t wanna come back here and find you again. You understand me?”
“Yes, sir.” Curtis nodded vigorously.
“And maybe think about getting some new friends, since the ones you’ve got don’t seem like the ones anyone oughta have.”
Curtis looked glum.
“You need a ride somewhere?” Rafe wanted to know.
Curtis blinked, and it took him a second to respond. “No, sir. My granddad’d kill me if I came home in a police car.”
Rafe nodded. He’s had some experience with grandfathers who beat their grandchildren, so he knows what that’s like. “Go on home, then. And stay outta trouble.”
“Yes, sir.” Curtis took off running. The buzzing from the crowd got louder, and then softer again.
“Show’s over,” Rafe told them, and reached for the door handle.
Only to stop when a voice asked, “What about my merchandise?”
The speaker was an older man, middle-eastern in coloring. When Rafe turned to him, he looked like he might have wanted to quail, but he squared his shoulders. “They stole from my market!”
“He didn’t,” Rafe pointed out, indicating Curtis, who was now a block away and fading fast. The kid should be on the track team at school, if he wasn’t already. “You the one who called the cops?”
The man nodded.
“I can’t arrest him when he didn’t do nothing. It’s not his fault that his friends shoplifted and ran.”
The market owner looked obstinate, and Rafe sighed.