“This morning I’m talking with Chadron’s family and whatever friends they can give me, give forensics time to do their thing. By noon, we’ll have more information. I’ve set up a meeting then to go over the case. I want you here for it.”
“Thanks for keeping me in the loop.”
“Of course.” Stella paused. “There’s one thing you could think about this morning. The money. We need to follow the cash on this drug deal. Is there anyone who seems to have hit the jackpot lately? Anyone who seems to have more money than usual?”
Instantly, Mattie thought of the hot springs crowd. Setting up a resort would take lots of money, but she knew nothing that tied them to the drug trade. “I’ll keep that in mind and get back to you later.”
Rainbow appeared at the staff office doorway. “Mattie, there’s a call from Crane’s Market about a shoplifter. Mr. Crane is holding the suspect in custody.”
Mattie looked at Stella. “Duty calls. I’ll see you back here around noon.”
“Sounds good.”
Robo was lying on his dog bed watching them.
“Robo? You ready to roll?” Mattie said.
He jumped up and trotted toward the door.
Stella returned Mattie’s grin. “Looks like he is.”
Outside, the morning air still felt crisp, but the sun’s rays promised a hot day. She drove the few blocks between the department and Crane’s Market. Mr. Crane, an older man with a stained apron covering his potbelly and a white butcher’s cap on his gray head, stood out front. He had a small boy in tow who looked to be around five or six years old.
Oh, man . . . looks like the perp is just a little kid.
Quickly, Mattie hit the lights and whooped the siren once as she pulled to a stop, hoping to make a stronger impression on the young thief. Maybe she could add to his discomfort and stop him from continuing his wayward ways.
The boy wore a ragged denim jacket over his T-shirt and shorts. His blond hair was a mess, and his knees looked like grimy knobs.
Mattie left the cruiser running, air conditioning vented toward Robo, windows halfway down in the back. As she approached, Crane handed her a brown paper bag.
“This is what I found in his jacket pockets,” Crane said.
Mattie peered inside the bag. Two jars of baby food, two cans of formula, four sticks of beef jerky. Strange items for a child to steal. She’d expected candy.
“Do you know his name?” she asked Crane.
“Sean O’Malley. His mom’s a regular customer. Down and out. Lives over in that trailer house beside the Catholic church.”
O’Malley, like Tommy O’Malley, the troublemaker at the high school. Was this his little brother?
She looked at the boy. He stood with eyes downcast, hands thrust in pockets, and chin set in a belligerent attitude. She remembered using that posture herself as a young girl.
“Do you know that stealing is wrong, Sean?” she asked him.
His eyes flickered up to touch on hers for a brief moment and then went back to studying the ground. But in that brief moment, Mattie connected with her own childhood, and she knew she’d have to side with the boy on this one.
She turned back to Crane. “I’ll take him home and speak with his mother, investigate the home situation. You noticed the items he took were probably not for himself, right?”
“Yes. I won’t press charges this time, but I don’t want him coming back in my store without his parents again.”
“Did you hear that, Sean?” Mattie asked.
Silence.
“You’d better answer. Mr. Crane is letting you go without sending you to jail. You should never do this again, because you might not be so lucky next time.” Mattie paused to let that sink in. “Now, did you hear him say he doesn’t want you coming back into his store without your parents?”
Sean shifted his weight. “Yes.”
Mattie had an inkling that the parents were part of the problem. Why else would a child come into a grocery store to steal baby food?
“Do you understand that stealing is wrong?”
“Yeah,” he said, begrudgingly.
“Is there a baby at your house that needs this food?”
Head down, he nodded.
“Just so you know, there are other ways to get food when you need it besides stealing. I’m going to pay Mr. Crane for the baby food this time, and we’ll take it home to your mom. Then we’ll look into getting some help for her to get more food.”
Silence.
Crane screwed up his face in distaste. “Aw, hell, take the damn baby food. Take the jerky, too.”
“What do you tell Mr. Crane for giving you the food?”
Sean looked at her as if he were clueless.
“You need to tell him thank you.”
The kid squinted as if in pain, but he lifted his chin. “Thanks.”
“Now get out of here,” Crane said to him, turning away to go back inside, disgust evident.
“Come on,” Mattie said, leading the way to the passenger side of the cruiser.
Robo barked a greeting and leaned out the open window, panting and showing his teeth. Sean stopped in his tracks, eyes wide.
“Go ahead and get in the car,” Mattie said, opening the door. “There’s a wire screen between you and him inside. He wouldn’t hurt you, anyway.”
Sean climbed in but perched on the front of the seat, twisting toward the back so he could keep his eye on the dog. Robo moved up to the front of the cage, eager to make friends.
“He’s friendly, but don’t reach your hand through the wire to pet him. It’s never a good idea to do that with a strange dog.” Mattie walked around the cruiser and sat in her own seat.
It would only take a few minutes to get to the boy’s house, but Mattie hoped to get some information out of him before they got there. “How old are you?”
“Six.”
“Do you have a dad at home?”
Perched on the front of his seat, grubby hands clutching the dashboard, Sean looked out the windshield. “Yes.”
Mattie thought of her own father. “Did he tell you to steal the food?”
“No.”
“Did your mom?”
“No.”
Mattie thought he must be lying one way or the other. “Put on your seat belt so we can go.”
Gingerly, Sean inched back in the seat, reaching for the belt while still keeping an eye on Robo.
Mattie put the car in gear. “Are you afraid of dogs?”
“No.”
“He’s a big one, I know.” Not to mention he could be ferocious when necessary. She paused while she drove out into the street. “Who all lives at your house, Sean?”
He gave her a sideways glance and a shrug. “My mom and dad and baby sister.”
“Is that all?”
“My big brother and sister.” Sean pointed at the trailer house just past the church. “That’s where I live.”
“Any other grown-ups live with you, Sean?”
“No.”
Mattie parked the car on the street in front of a ramshackle mobile home. The yard surrounding it had long ago gone to weeds. “Let’s go talk to your parents.”
“My dad’s at work.”
“Your mom then.”
Leaving Robo in the car, she followed Sean through the clutter of junk left out in the yard: a rusted-out washing machine, numerous toys, the shell of an old Chevy auto body up on wooden blocks. They stepped up onto the splintered wooden deck.
Before Mattie could knock, a tired looking woman opened the door. She was holding an infant who had a runny nose. Her eyes shifted between Mattie and Sean, and Mattie could see her putting two and two together. She’d bet that the mother was the one who sent the boy out to shoplift.