“I know,” Judith said quietly. “As I mentioned earlier, that’s
what bothers me most.”
Before the cousins returned to their room, they each called
home to let their loved ones know they were marooned. Bill,
as usual, was terse on the phone because he firmly believed
the instrument was a satanic tool. Joe was somewhat more
talkative, if subdued.
“I cuffed a twelve-year-old today,” he said after Judith told
him about the storm. “He’d shot two other kids at a strip
mall. Can you believe it?”
“Are the other kids dead?” Judith asked, lacing her voice
with sympathy for Joe, the perp, and the victims.
“No, they’ll probably make it,” Joe replied. “But it still
makes me sick. This kid—Jamaal—isn’t a bad kid, really. At
least I don’t think he is. He just wants to belong. But it’s
been rough getting him to open up. He doesn’t trust adults,
especially not middle-aged white males.”
“Why don’t you let Woody interrogate him?” Judith asked,
referring to Joe’s long-time partner, who was black.
“Because I’m the primary.” Joe said. “And frankly, Woody
can be pretty hard on black kids who get themselves in
trouble. Sometimes it’s almost like he takes it
personally. Woody made it, and he can’t understand why
kids with the same ethnic background don’t bother to try.”
“Woody was solid middle class,” Judith pointed out. “I’ll
bet most of the gang members haven’t had that advantage.”
“You’re right,” Joe agreed, “but tell that to Woody. He
says that’s all the more reason less fortunate black kids should
try even harder.”
Judith could picture Woodrow Wilson Price, with his
serious brown eyes and thick walrus mustache, lecturing
disadvantaged youth. He would be solemn, eloquent, and
somewhat pedantic. It was dubious that he’d make even the
slightest dent on most of the bad apples Joe had described.
“By the way,” Judith said, nervously clearing her throat,
“you may hear something about an…incident at the lodge.”
“An incident?” Joe sounded on guard.
“Yes. Ah…well…it seems that a body was discovered this
afternoon not far from the parking lot. Um…it’s not a
body, it’s an
long time. The OTIOSE president and CEO has been trying
to get hold of the chief.”
Judith thought she heard Joe say an extremely naughty
word under his breath. “The chief?
“Yes. Mr. Killegrew—the CEO—will only deal with his
vis-a-vis.”
“Screw Mr. Killegrew,” Joe growled. “The chief’s in Hawaii.
Besides, Mountain Goat is way outside our jurisdiction.” He
was silent for a few seconds, then exploded. “Jude-girl!” The
