Vigilant

He raised an eyebrow. “You have a lot of enemies or something?”

“I’m a juvenile probation officer. I have a caseload of sixty kids. I could narrow it down to about fifteen that hate me at the moment.”

Officer Baker whistled. “Yeah, that could be a problem. Or it could be random. Did they take anything?”

“Nope. Just messed up the car.”

“So, yeah, probably retaliation of some kind. Who’s at the top of your list?”

Ari thought about it. She had two boys on runaway status right now—both with outstanding warrants Ari issued when they’d failed to make curfew. Then there was Hope, but she was in lockup. There wasn’t much she could do from inside. She thought back to Jace Watkins and the armed robbery, but Ari still thought he hadn’t recognized her. If so, he would’ve probably done a lot more than slit her tires.

“I’ll write the names down,” she said, taking the pad from Officer Baker. She wrote down three or four, adding Jace’s name at the bottom.

“That’s the kid from the robbery last week,” Baker said, looking over the names. “The one that got away. You didn’t tell me he was a client of yours.”

“He’s not. He aged out a while back but I recognized him from our program. If he saw me that day, he may think he needs to scare me.”

Officer Baker frowned and fished out a business card. “I’ll look into this and send you the report for insurance. Be careful and call me directly if anything else happens.” He looked over at her house. “You have a roommate? A dog?”

“Roommate—no dog. But it’s a guy, if that helps.”

“It may. I see your security sticker. Make sure you turn your system on, okay?”

“I try to remember,” Ari said, knowing that she wasn’t always vigilant about it. Officer Baker got in his car and drove off while Ari stared at the mess her car had become. The scratches were ugly, but the two flat tires made it un-drivable. She walked back into the house to call a tow truck.

* * *

Since Oliver worked all day in his office—and could hitch a ride home with Veronica—Ari dropped him off downtown on her way to Curtis’s house while her car was at the shop. Mr. Davis had given her a list of items Curtis would need while in the program, and she thought she’d try his house. Luckily, the program had some basic supplies he could borrow until she got back with his personal items.

Ms. Wilson lived in a housing project near the stadium. The century-old houses lining her street sat in varied states of neglect. Curtis’s mother’s home was no exception although there seemed to be some attempt at keeping the yard and porch clean. Ari parked Oliver’s SUV on the street and locked the doors. She’d come early on purpose, the time of day when drug dealers and car thieves slept. Even though there was a false sense of peacefulness about the neighborhood, the numbness that Ari struggled with returned slowly. She frowned in disgust over the plastic drug baggies that littered the streets. Smashed beer bottles. All signals that every effort she made for these kids had been futile.

No one answered Ari’s knock, so she tried twice more, even pulling on the screen door to see if it was also locked. Curtis had no phone number listed in his file. Tucking her card into the wire mesh door, Ari stepped off the porch. Halfway down the walk, she heard the locks slide and the door slowly open. Curtis’s mother stood inside, obscured by the dark screen door. Ari had expected his grandmother who was listed in his file as his primary caregiver.

“Ms. Wilson?”

“Yes? Who are you?”

“Ari Grant. I’m Curtis’s caseworker. We’ve met before. Is Curtis’s grandmother here?”

“Curtis. When’s he coming home?” she asked. Her voice sounded like gravel, thick and deep.

Ari noted that Ms. Wilson didn’t invite her in. She took a deep breath and explained, “During his hearing, Judge Hatcher recommended a residential placement.”

“How can she do that without my permission?”

“Ms. Wilson, the court sent a notice to Curtis’s grandmother in the mail about his hearing date.”

“We didn’t get no notice.”

“Well, he had one. The good news, though, is that his placement is in town and it’s at a really good program. I think he has a chance of graduating from it successfully.”

She squinted her eyes at Ari and Ari wondered if she was on drugs or hungover.

“What kind of program is this?” Ms. Wilson asked.

“He’ll live there and go to a local school. They have counseling services and a strong focus on athletics.”

“Sports?”