The Accomplice (Theodore Boone 7)

Theo could not comprehend Woody being referred to as a “criminal.” He took a deep breath, uncertain about what to say next. “Is it possible to write the bond for less than ten percent?”

Sparky grunted his disapproval and waved a hand at the windows. “Not here, but feel free to go next door or across the street. But it’s a waste of time. Nobody can get your friend out quicker than me. I guarantee it.”

Theo hesitated and tried to look as pitiful as possible. Sparky glared at him as if they were wasting their time. Theo asked, “So, if I bring you two thousand dollars in cash, how long will it take to get them out?”

“About an hour.” Sparky stood as if he suddenly had better things to do. “Now beat it, kid.”

“Thanks,” Theo said and walked to the door.

At the jail, Officer Randolph examined the note from Mrs. Gladwell and told Theo to follow him. They went to a small windowless room that was barely wide enough for a narrow table and two folding chairs. Theo took a seat and unpacked his textbooks. He waited nervously, jumping at every sound in the hallway. Finally, Woody walked in and Officer Randolph closed the door behind him. It locked loudly.

Woody’s left eye was swollen shut and he had a fresh cut on his forehead. He sat across from Theo and said, “You gotta get me out of here, Theo.”

“What happened? You look awful.”

“Got in a fight. Last night they put this guy Jock in our cell and he was serious trouble.”

“What happened, Woody?”

Woody placed his hands on the table. Both were shaking. His right eye watered, and it was obvious he was a wreck. He began. “Jock is a jerk, a real bully, and a tough guy. Tony and I tried to stay away from him but the cell is not big enough. About an hour ago, when they finally brought us lunch, Jock said he wanted half of my sandwich. I said no, and I guess that was the wrong thing to say. He grabbed for the sandwich, dumped my tray, and that started it all. He was just begging for a fight. He punched me in the face, Tony jumped on his back, and Jock basically beat the crap out of us. Before the guards could get there he had us both on the floor and was kicking away. You should see Tony’s face. Everybody was yelling, and when the guards grabbed Jock he yelled about how we jumped him and started it all. Two against one ain’t fair and stuff like that. They took him away to another cell and the guards cussed us for starting the fight, said we’d have to spend more time in jail for fighting.”

Theo was stunned. He asked, “Is Tony okay?”

“I think so. An EMT looked at him, said nothing was broken, put some ice on his face. Jock is one mean dude. You gotta help us, Theo. We’re in jail for doing nothing and this place is awful.”

“I’m trying, okay? I just met with your mom and then with a bail bondsman. I also met with your lawyer, who is not that nice of a guy.”

“We didn’t like him at all. He started off by telling us how busy he is, how he’s got fifty cases right now, all in Youth Court, and so he can’t spend much time with us. We told him what happened and got the impression he didn’t believe us. We need another lawyer, Theo.”

“We’ll worry about that later. Right now we’re trying to raise bail money.”

“What’s that?” Woody said, nodding at the textbooks.

“Your homework. Mrs. Gladwell and Mr. Mount have decided that I need to tutor you so you won’t get behind.”

“I’m already behind and you can take those books back where they came from. If I wasn’t doing homework at home, what makes you think I’ll do it here?”

Which was a very good question and one Theo had been contemplating. Woody grimaced and pressed both hands against the sides of his head. “I don’t know how many times he kicked me but my head is killing me. It’s throbbing and my ears are ringing.”

“Listen. We’ve got seven hundred dollars already. If we get a thousand then we can bail you out and go to work on Tony’s bail.”

“No. I’m not leaving here without him. It’s both of us or nothing.”

“Come on, Woody. You’re thirteen, he’s sixteen. He can survive here longer than you.”

“Oh really? You should see him now, see how well he’s surviving. I’m not leaving without Tony.”

Theo shook his head. “Okay, okay.”

Nothing was said for a long minute. Woody gently massaged his temples as he frowned and closed his eyes. Theo felt like crying, but not here. This was jail and everybody played the tough guy.

“What’s everybody saying about me?” Woody asked. “I’m sure the whole school knows I’m in jail.”

“I haven’t talked to the whole school. Our gang knows what’s going on and everyone is on your side. You’ve done nothing wrong and all your buddies are trying to get you out. Mr. Mount is concerned and wants to help. Mrs. Gladwell has talked to the judge. We’re with you, Woody.”

Woody took a deep breath and managed a smile, as if relieved.

Theo said, “Don’t worry about everybody else, Woody. Only your friends matter and we’re all on your side.”

“That stupid kid Garth. I wish Jock could go a round or two with him.”

Theo slowly put the textbooks into his backpack. “You’re not leaving, are you?” Woody asked. “What’s the hurry?”

“No. I won’t leave until they make me.”

They chatted for almost an hour and Theo managed to get a couple of laughs out of his friend. Officer Randolph tapped on the door and said time was up.

At the front desk, Theo picked up his cell phone and checked his messages. Mr. Mount texted that he had two hundred dollars for the cause. Chase was calling a meeting of the gang at Guff’s Yogurt for four thirty.

Theo hopped on his bike and raced to the shabby old office where his uncle Ike worked occasionally. Ike was the older brother of Woods Boone and had once been a prominent lawyer in town. But he encountered some sort of vague “trouble” and was forced to leave the profession. He spent a few months in jail, long before Theo was born. Ike never talked about what happened, nor did Theo’s parents.

His office was on the second floor of an old building owned by a Greek family that ran a deli downstairs. Theo hustled up the stairs, barged into the office, and found Ike at his desk, buried in paperwork, sipping a late afternoon beer, and listening to the Grateful Dead on the stereo. “What’s this?” he growled. He adored his only nephew but didn’t like the surprise intrusion.

Theo stopped by every Monday afternoon for a required visit, but never on Thursdays. He blurted, “Ike, I need to borrow some money.”

“I don’t have any money, Theo. What’s going on?”

“Okay, I’ll be brief. One of my good friends is in jail and I’m trying to bail him out. His family has no money for bail and I’m trying to round up two thousand dollars. I’m putting up all of my savings, all four hundred dollars.”

“Must be a real good friend. Why was he arrested?”

“Armed robbery. It’s a long story but he’s not guilty.”

“Don’t they all say that? A kid charged with armed robbery?”

“Look, Ike, I’ll explain it all later. Right now I need some money. I’ve never asked you before and I’ll never ask you again. And it’s a loan. I promise I’ll pay it back. One day. Somehow.”

Ike scratched his beard and pulled at his gray ponytail. “Pretty serious aren’t you?”

“Dead serious, Ike.”

“How do you plan to pay it back? You’re not exactly employed yet.”

“I’ll think of something. Trust me.”

Ike studied him for a long time and began to smile. Slowly, he reached into a drawer, removed a three-ring checkbook, and scribbled something. He tore out the check and handed it over. “Two hundred dollars. It’s the best I can do. And it’s a loan, not a gift.”

Theo snatched the check, said, “You’re the greatest, Ike,” and took off.

As Theo climbed onto his bike, his phone buzzed. It was a text from Daisy. Woody’s father had somehow found $100. Their effort was now at

$1,200, enough to spring Woody.