Officer Peckinpaw leaned his bike against a signpost and removed his helmet. “What’s your name, kid?” he demanded, as if Theo might be a serial killer.
“Theo Boone.” The two had met several times over the years, at least in passing. This, though, was Theo’s first real run-in with Officer Stu.
“That name’s familiar,” he said, and gave Theo the opening he always wanted.
“Yes, sir. My dad is Woods Boone and my mother is Marcella Boone. The law firm of Boone & Boone.”
“Rings a bell. So, if both parents are lawyers, then you should know the law, right?”
“I guess.”
“City code prohibits bikes on sidewalks at all hours of the day and night, no exceptions. Don’t you know this?”
“Yes, sir, I do.”
Peckinpaw glared at Theo as if he might whip out the old handcuffs and slap both wrists together. “Are you okay?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Then get home and stay off the sidewalks.”
“Yes, sir. Thanks.”
Officer Stu had the reputation of having a loud bark but no bite, and he rarely wrote tickets to kids on bikes. He liked to yell and threaten, but preferred to avoid the paperwork. Theo sped away, greatly relieved to be out of trouble, but also curious about what else might happen on this eventful day. His cell phone beeped and he stopped to answer it. It was his mother, telling him to head home. The meeting with the Treens was finally over, and it had been a success.
His parents were eating a frozen pizza when he walked into the kitchen. They were exhausted. They asked about the shelter, but were almost too tired to talk. Theo was curious about the Treens and what happened after he left, but the old attorney-client shield was quickly thrown up and the conversation was cut off. His parents never talked about their clients. Never. A client’s business and the conversation between lawyers and their clients were strictly off-limits. Mrs. Boone did say an agreement had been reached, and the Treens would seek counseling.
Theo had a lot of things to discuss. Two punctured tires, a vandalized school locker, now a rock through his office window. Someone was tormenting him and he needed to talk. But it would be a long conversation, and all the Boones, including Judge, were ready for bed. His father, a lawyer who usually avoided conflict, seemed especially fatigued by the three-hour ordeal with the Treens. Mrs. Boone was complaining of a headache. Theo was about to press on anyway because he needed help and advice, but just as he was about to say something, the phone rang. It was Mrs. Treen, upset again.
Theo and Judge went upstairs to bed.
Chapter 7
The following day, Wednesday, Theo raced to school as always, though he did avoid downtown, and he did stay off the sidewalks. He did not have the chance to chat with his parents over breakfast because his father, as always, left for early gossip with his coffee group and his mother was walking out the door, late for a meeting. Theo and Judge ate alone and in silence.
According to the headlines, there was no sign of Pete Duffy. Thieves had broken into a computer store on Main Street. Two students at Stratten College had been arrested for cyber stalking. Not a single word about some unknown thug vandalizing the law office of Theo Boone, since the police had yet to be notified.
Theo was thankful for Wednesday; it would certainly be better than Tuesday.
During second period Geometry, Theo’s Wednesday suddenly became much worse than his Tuesday. Over the loudspeaker, the shrieking voice of the school secretary, Miss Gloria, demanded, “Miss Garman, is Theo Boone present?”
At that moment, Theo was drifting away and daydreaming about the upcoming camping trip to Lake Marlo. At the sound of his name, he bolted upright and felt as though he’d been slapped.
“He is,” Miss Garman replied.
“Send him to the office, please.”
Theo jumped to his feet and left the room.
There were two detectives in dark suits sitting in the office of the principal, Mrs. Gladwell, who looked like she had seen a ghost when Theo walked in. She gushed, “Theo, these two gentlemen are with the police department and they would like to talk to you.” Neither detective stood, neither smiled. The short one was an older man, a Detective Vorman, and Theo had seen him around the courthouse. In fact, Theo had watched him testify in a trial a couple of months earlier. The other, Detective Hamilton, Theo had never seen before. He said, “Theo, we’d like to ask you a few questions.”
Since there were no empty chairs, Theo leaned with his back against the wall and wondered why they were there. His first thought was the broken window, but he quickly dismissed it. Such a minor act of vandalism would not require the involvement of two detectives. Theo managed to say, “Okay.”
Hamilton went on, “Did you happen to be downtown last night?”
Theo did not like his tone, nor his frown. Combined, they gave the strong impression that they suspected him of doing something wrong. Theo looked at Mrs. Gladwell, who was nervously tapping her fingers on her desk. He looked at Detective Vorman who was writing something on his pocket notepad.
Theo said, “I was at the Highland Street Shelter last night.”
“Were you on Main Street for any reason last night?” Hamilton asked.
“Why are you asking me these questions?” Theo asked, and this really irritated both detectives.
“I’ll handle the questions, Theo. You do the answers,” Hamilton sneered like a bad TV actor.
“Just answer the questions,” Vorman chimed in, a real bully.
“No, I was not downtown,” Theo said slowly. “I went to the shelter, then I rode my bike home.”
“Did you bump into Officer Stu Peckinpaw?” Hamilton asked.
“Yes. I accidentally ran into him, but everything was okay.”
“And where did this take place?”
“On Main Street, Main and Farley.”
“So you were downtown last night, weren’t you, Theo?”
“I was on my bike.”
The detectives gave each other a smug look. Mrs. Gladwell tapped her fingers even faster. Hamilton said, “There’s a computer store on Main Street, two blocks down from Farley. It’s called Big Mac’s Systems. You know the place?”
Theo shook his head. No. However, he remembered the name from his quick review of the morning’s local headlines. The store had been broken into the night before.
Vorman helped out. “They sell PCs, laptops, printers, software, the usual, but also the latest tablets, SmartPads, e-book readers, even cell phones. You’ve never been to the store, Theo?”
“No, sir.”
“Do you have a laptop?”
“Yes, sir. Jupiter Air, thirteen inch. Got it for Christmas.”
“Where is it now?”
“In my backpack, back in the classroom.”
“Do you ever keep it in your locker?” Hamilton asked.
“Occasionally. Why?”
“Again, Theo, we’ll handle the questions.”
“Okay, but I get the feeling you think I’ve done something wrong. And, if that’s the case, then I want to call a lawyer.”
Both detectives found this amusing. A thirteen-year-old kid asking for a lawyer. They dealt with thugs and criminals all day long, and every one of them demanded a lawyer. This kid must watch too much television.
“We’d like to see your locker,” Hamilton said.
Theo knew it was unwise to agree to any type of search. Car, home, pockets, office, even locker—never agree to a search. If the police believed there was evidence of a crime, then they could go to a judge and get a warrant, or written permission, and conduct a search. However, Theo knew he had done nothing wrong and, like all innocent people, wanted to prove this to the police. He also knew the school could open his locker without his approval.
“Sure,” he said, somewhat reluctantly, and both detectives, as well as Mrs. Gladwell, could not help but notice that Theo hesitated before agreeing to a search. The four left the office and headed down the em
pty hallway. The bell would ring in less than fifteen minutes, and there would be plenty of students to witness Theo in the presence of two dark-suited strangers. Within seconds the entire school would know that he was being investigated for something. When they stopped in front of his locker, Theo glanced around. The hall was empty.
“When did you last open your locker?” Hamilton asked.
“When I got to school this morning. Around eight thirty.”
“So, about two hours ago.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And did you notice anything unusual at that time?”
“No, sir.” Theo wanted to mention the fact that a stranger had been in his locker on Monday, but he was suddenly in a hurry. He was terrified that someone might see him with two cops and the principal.
“You can open it now,” Hamilton said.
Theo punched in the code—58343 (Judge)—and pulled open the door. Nothing appeared to be missing, but something had certainly been added. On the left side, leaning against some textbooks, were three slender objects Theo had never seen before.
“Don’t touch anything,” Hamilton said as he leaned down and in and breathed on Theo’s neck. Vorman and Mrs. Gladwell huddled close, and for a few seconds no one moved or said a word. Finally, Hamilton asked, “See anything unusual, Theo?”
With a dry mouth, Theo managed to say, “Yes, sir. Those are not mine.”
The slender objects were Linx 0-4 Tablets, the hottest and lightest personal computers dominating the marketplace. With stunning graphics, unlimited memory, a million applications, and a price tag of $399, the 0-4 was cheaper, yet far more sophisticated than its current competition. Detective Vorman, wearing surgical gloves and treating the 0-4s like rare diamonds, placed them side by side on Mrs. Gladwell’s desk. Big Mac had been called and was on his way to identify his stolen property.
“Please call my mother,” Theo said to Mrs. Gladwell. “Or my father. It doesn’t matter.”