Mitch’s mouth settled into a frown. Rocky slumped against the wall of the store, his breath coming fast.
“Mitch? Rocky? Anyone want to tell me what went down here?”
“He stole two of my most expensive shirts, that’s what he did!” Mitch put his hands on his hips and glared at Rocky. “Ruined them with his dirty hands. I should never have let a kid like him in.”
A kid like him. Liam looked at Rocky in time to see the kid’s face crumple, and his own heart squeezed. He knew what it was to be considered riffraff.
“Can you describe what you saw?” he asked. “Rocky, sit down a minute. Right there on that bench, where I can see you.”
“I don’t...” Mitch looked at Liam and trailed off.
He could guess what Mitch had been about to say: that Rocky was too dirty to sit on the pale canvas bench. Well, too bad: that wasn’t true. The boy was a little unkempt, but thanks to Yasmin’s efforts, he showered every day and his clothes were clean. Liam stared Mitch down until the other man looked away.
“I was up there working on a window display,” Mitch said, gesturing toward the front of the store. “I’m pretty involved in what I’m doing, and when I look up, there’s this kid running out the door. Looking a lot fatter than when he came in, so I knew he’d stuffed something into his shirt. I chased after him.”
“With your gun,” Liam said drily.
“Scared the socks off me,” Rocky contributed. “He said he was gonna kill me if I didn’t stop. For a couple of shirts!”
“Shirts that cost more than you’ll ever be able to afford.” Mitch crossed his arms and leaned back against the counter. “Yeah, so I did threaten him. He stole my property, from my property. And you’d better believe I’m thinking about making a full report.”
Liam sighed. He’d seen plenty of teen shoplifting—though rarely from a place like Mitchell’s Men’s Shop—and most storekeepers were more than happy to simply lodge a complaint, scold the kid and get their items back. Mitch, though, was a different type.
He ordered Rocky to stay put and then used his tablet to get a statement from Mitch. He made sure to listen carefully and check every detail. Sometimes, just feeling heard made people drop their complaints. Not that he wanted to influence Mitch, not really; Rocky needed to face the consequences of what he’d done. But Liam definitely had a soft spot for the child and didn’t want to add legal consequences to his already tumultuous life.
“Rocky, I’m going to have to take you on into the station,” he said. He really ought to cuff and search the boy, too, but he wasn’t going to. He was, however, going to need to call Rocky’s guardian.
Yasmin.
The thought of talking with her hyped up Liam’s heartbeat, which wasn’t good. Especially when his news wasn’t exactly what she wanted to hear.
But was Yasmin really his official guardian? Liam was pretty sure that the arrangement with Rocky’s mom was unofficial, which meant trouble could ensue.
Well, they’d deal with that when it happened. This was too serious to be brushed under the rug, especially with Mitch’s attitude. And even though fostering a child without official paperwork wasn’t exactly kosher, it was what the Safe Haven community did. Always had, and Liam hoped it always would.
“I’m too busy to deal with this right now,” Mitch said. “It’s going to have to wait until my sales associate arrives at 2:00. And I’ll decide then whether I want to press charges.”
“Not a problem.” A relief, actually, since Mitch was likely to calm down if he took a few hours to think about it. “I’ll get this young man’s statement once his guardian comes in, and talk to you later, and we’ll figure things out. Meanwhile—” he turned to Rocky “—do you have anything you want to say?” Hopefully, Rocky knew how to apologize. The kid had decent manners overall, so Liam suspected that he did.
Rocky stood and walked toward the door of the shop. When he passed the counter where Mitch stood, he said “sorry” in a sulky tone.
Not good enough, but Liam could identify with the kid well enough not to push it.
Mitch narrowed his eyes. “You’ll pardon me if I don’t believe that.”
“Come on,” Liam said, and held the door open, putting a hand on Rocky’s shoulder to make sure he didn’t take off.
They drove to the station in silence. Liam resisted the urge to lecture the boy, because he could tell from his expression that Rocky was about to lose it. Nothing more humiliating than crying in front of a man you didn’t know well.
He got Rocky into a holding room—the only holding room—with Willa Jean watching him. Then he called Yasmin.
“Hey, problem,” he said as soon she answered. “Rocky got in some trouble. Can you come down to the station?”
“Is he okay?”
That quick question told Liam how Yasmin felt about Rocky: motherly. She was more concerned about his well-being than about her own undoubtedly busy schedule.
“He’s fine. A little upset. I’ll need to release him into your custody or keep him here, but I’d rather—”
“I’ll be right there,” she interrupted.
That was Yasmin, and Liam’s heart seemed to warm and reach toward her, which really wasn’t good. She had dumped him once, and she wasn’t giving him any sense now that they could have any kind of relationship. He didn’t need to be falling for her again.
Didn’t need to be thinking about kissing her again.
He went into the holding room and told Willa Jean she could go back to her desk. Then he sat across the table from Rocky. He wanted to talk to him, to treat him like a kid he cared about rather than a criminal, but he had to follow protocol.
Besides, some uncomfortable silence might make Rocky think. He filled out a couple of forms on his tablet, listened to the buzz of Safe Haven’s downtown outside the barred window and watched Rocky from the corner of his eye.
The boy kept licking his lips and looking around the barren, beige-painted room. He wiped sweat from his forehead with the sleeve of his shirt. Cleared his throat a couple of times.
Hmm. Trying not to cry. And Liam was glad that Rocky took the consequences of his infraction seriously. He’d seen kids slide down in that very same chair and fall asleep, waiting for a parent or guardian to come bail them out of trouble.
A few minutes later there was a tap on the door. Willa Jean. “Ms. Tanner is here.”
“Send her in.”
Yasmin burst through the door and marched over to Rocky. “Just exactly what do you think you’re doing?”
“Hold on,” Liam said. “I need to advise him of his rights.” He did and was glad to see that Rocky was even more sobered by the official words.
As soon as he was done, Yasmin started in. “And again, I’d like to know what you thought you were going to accomplish.”
“I...” Rocky shrugged his shoulders and put his head down on the desk.
“Oh no you don’t.” Yasmin lifted him up by the back of his shirt. “You sit up straight when I’m talking to you,” she said. “This is unacceptable.” Her voice was strong and stern, her stance dramatic, but Liam could see the tension in the lines bracketing her mouth. She was posturing to Rocky, but inside, she was upset.
Liam was, too. He’d thought they were making progress with the boy. “You know that stealing is a crime, right?” he asked Rocky.
“No duh,” Rocky said. He was obviously going for nonchalance, but the anxiety in his brown eyes belied that effort.
Well, good. The kid needed to be scared. “Your mom isn’t here. Yasmin isn’t your legal guardian. If you don’t stay under the radar, you could end up in juvenile custody so fast you wouldn’t know what hit you.”
“No way.” Rocky’s head snapped toward Liam. “I ain’t going to juvie. My mom couldn’t find me there.”
“It would be a lot harder,” Liam agreed. �
��Not to mention a miserable experience with some of the toughest, meanest kids you’ve ever met. So what were you thinking, shoplifting from a store? That’s not exactly keeping a low profile.”
“It was just a couple of shirts,” Rocky mumbled. “I didn’t know the guy would see me.”
“You probably didn’t know he had a gun, either, or that he’s quick to pull it out.”
Rocky stared at the floor.
A thought flashed into Liam’s mind, something Cash had said: something about how, if you love your work and do something important, it doesn’t matter whether you’re at the top. Well, Liam wasn’t at the top in this police department, might not ever be. But he was maybe the only adult in town who could really understand what Rocky was going through. He’d spent a few uncomfortable hours in this police station, in this very holding room, when he’d been a rebellious teenager.
Yasmin sat down across from Rocky, reached out and grasped his hand. “What were you doing, anyway, stealing clothes from that pretentious store?”
“They were for school,” Rocky mumbled, staring down at the table.
“For school?” Yasmin stared at Rocky, then glanced over at Liam. “You tried to steal stuff from Mitchell’s Men’s Shop to go to middle school?”
“I saw how nice those kids were dressed,” Rocky said.
“What kids?” Yasmin tilted her head to one side, her expression puzzled.
Rocky sighed. “The ones I played basketball with.”
“Oh.” Yasmin looked over at Liam, understanding crossing her face. “I had him stay with Claire’s nephews when I took my mom back to Charleston,” she said. Then she turned back to Rocky. “Honey, those boys go to private school up North, so they wear uniforms. Even on their off days, they dress up. But nobody at the public schools down here dresses like they do.”
“Dustin said the town kids make fun of how the country kids dress.” Rocky’s voice was defensive. “I didn’t want people thinking I was a country kid.”
Again, Liam could identify. Starting out in a new town, you wanted above all to fit in. To blend in, so that people didn’t see you as an easy mark. If Rocky had thought he didn’t have the right clothes, of course he’d try to rectify the situation. And undoubtedly, his pride wouldn’t allow him to simply ask Yasmin or Liam for help. “Look,” he said to the boy, “I can take you out to buy a few shirts and pairs of jeans before school starts.”
“We’re both glad to help you,” Yasmin added, glancing at Liam. “You don’t have to steal. Not ever.”
An unspoken message arced between them. They’d make sure Rocky had the right clothes and backpack, whatever else he needed to make his days at Safe Haven Middle School go smoothly.
Liam had an odd sense of fate. If any two people in Safe Haven knew what it was to struggle to fit in at school, it was Liam and Yasmin. For them, it hadn’t been about clothes, but the feelings were the same. They could both identify with Rocky, and moreover, identifying with Rocky, helping him, was bringing them closer together.
But he couldn’t focus on that, on the appeal of it, because it was all too temporary. “We need to talk about how to handle the fact that Rocky’s mom hasn’t shown up yet,” he said to Yasmin. “Maybe get some official paperwork started.”
“She’s coming to get me!” Rocky leaned forward, his voice suddenly intense. “I know she’s coming to get me any day now.”
“Have you had any contact with her?” Liam posed the question sharply and then watched Rocky for signs of lying.
Rocky’s face fell and he shook his head. “Not since that letter. But I know she’s coming back soon.”
He glanced at Yasmin to find her looking at him. Once again, they communicated silently. They would work on making Yasmin his official guardian, just in case.
“In the meantime,” Liam said, “we need to come up with a plan of restitution. You stole from Mitch’s shop. How are you going to make that up to him?”
“I gave the stuff back,” Rocky said.
“That’s fine, but you still need to do something to apologize.” Rocky’s mouth opened like he was going to argue, and Liam held up a hand. “If you get this right, you may be able to avoid having him press charges. And that could mean you avoid the foster care system or even juvie. It’s important.”
“Could he do some work in the stockroom at the store?” Yasmin was frowning. “He could learn a little bit about what retail is like.”
Liam looked at Rocky. Then, they both shook their heads at the same time. “I don’t think Mitch is going to want help from Rocky,” Liam said. “Nor that he’ll be a willing mentor.”
“He’ll be holding a gun on me the whole time,” Rocky said.
“Holding a gun on a child.” Yasmin looked in the direction of Mitch’s store, a murderous expression on her face.
“I talked to him some about it,” Liam said, “and I’ll talk some more. A gun and a temper like his don’t go together. He has to get it under control.”
“Good.” Yasmin sighed. “Probably better for you to talk to him than for me to try. I don’t think I could stay all cool and collected.” She rubbed a hand on Rocky’s forearm. “He better not try anything like that again.”
Rocky’s eyebrows scrunched together as he studied Yasmin. Liam had to wonder whether his own mother stood up for him so staunchly. It seemed to be a surprise to the boy.
“But all that aside, we have to find a way for you to apologize. What about doing some weeding and trimming outside his store?” Yasmin looked at Rocky. “That way, you wouldn’t have to be inside the store, and I know he likes the place to look immaculate.”
“Or maybe hosing down the sidewalk and scrubbing it,” Liam suggested.
“I don’t know how to do any of that!” Rocky’s fists clenched. “I gave the shirts back! Why do I have to do more?”
“It’s a punishment, son,” Liam said.
“To make you remember not to do anything like this again,” Yasmin added.
They looked at each other, and there it was again: they were parenting Rocky together. At least for right now.
“I’ll release him to your custody,” Liam said, and they went out front to complete the forms, Rocky trailing behind and flopping into a metal chair. But suddenly, the door to the station burst open. Mitch marched in. “I got help at the store so I could see to this personally,” he said. “I want full charges pressed against this young man. Apparently no one in town knows him. He’s a drifter.”
“He’s thirteen, Mitch.” Yasmin had stood and was facing Mitch while Liam kept Rocky quelled in a seat beside Willa Jean’s desk. “You can’t be a drifter at thirteen. He’s staying with me for a little while. He’s a friend of my family.”
“Your family.” Mitch rolled his eyes as if that was a condemnation in itself.
“That’s right.” A flash of pain crossed Yasmin’s face and was gone as quickly as it had appeared.
Liam frowned. He’d always thought of Yasmin’s family as upper crust, and they were definitely wealthy. Or they had been. And maybe they were a little eccentric, but he’d always thought they were respected in town.
Mitch spun on Liam. “I want to press charges against the boy.”
Liam pulled out a chair. “Sit down, Mitch. Let’s talk this over, and then I’ll take a statement from you.”
“Oh, you... Of course you’d want to do that. Always with the compromises. You’re from the same low-life background yourself.”
Liam’s heart rate shot up and his fists clenched. He relaxed them and drew in a breath, exhaled. “Yes, I am. A lot of decent Safe Haven citizens cut me a break. That’s why I’m on the right side of the law today.”
Rocky stood, and both Liam and Yasmin moved to block his path of exit. But the boy squared his shoulders and faced Mitch. “I’m sorry for what I did,” he said, his voice cracking a little. “I
could... I could do some gardening work for you outside your store. Or wash the windows and sidewalk. To make it up to you.”
Pride washed over Liam, and when he looked at Yasmin, she was nodding. “Good job, son,” she said.
“You’re not going to get yourself off the hook by pulling a few weeds,” Mitch said. “I’m still going to press charges. I want this kid locked away. How do I start the paperwork?”
“You don’t really want to do this, Mitch,” Liam said.
“I sure do.”
Yasmin crossed her arms over her chest, sparks seeming to shoot from her eyes. “That’s gonna make a good story out at the club,” she said. “Wealthy business owner refuses to accept apology from struggling teenager, presses charges for petty theft.”
Mitch spun to face her. “You wouldn’t dare sully my reputation.”
“I’d be telling the simple truth. If it hurts, well...there’s still time to change your attitude.”
“You think I should accept having criminal activity against my store.”
“I’m thinking you need a sense of perspective,” she said. “Did you ever make a mistake? Have you ever been forgiven? Saved by a little bit of grace?”
Mitch looked from her, to Rocky, to Liam. All of them stood united against him. “I’m still going to think about this,” he said, his voice as sulky as Rocky’s had been earlier. “Speak to my attorney.”
“That’s your right,” Liam said. “If you decide to press charges, you just give us a call.”
“And meanwhile, he goes free?”
“With supervision,” Yasmin said. “If you’re not enthusiastic about his helping you out at the store, I’m sure the police station has some landscaping work that it needs done.”
“A lot,” Liam said. “But Mitch has first dibs on the boy’s time.”
Mitch glared. “I want nothing more to do with that child,” he said, and spun toward the door. Just before going through it, he turned and glared at Liam. “Don’t think I’ll forget this when the time comes to make a decision for police chief. I have the feeling Buck Mulligan would have handled it very differently.”
Low Country Dreams Page 12
