Page 88 of Random in Death

“It really is crap,” Peabody said as they started down. “And too young crap for me anyway. They sell—this store especially has a good crowd. But it looks like a lot of people saving some bucks because kids grow out of things almost as fast as you put the things on them.

“And Quilla’s Aunt Janes,” she added. “Plenty of the vics’ and suspect’s age group, but cheap sunshades and like that are a draw.”

“Most of that age group has a limited discretionary income. I’d’ve been stuck with crap like this at that age.”

“I’m lucky. Everybody sewed.”

On the lower level, Eve hunted up a clerk, badged him.

“We’re looking for a white male, middle teens, about five-six, who bought a pair of Kick It Zoomers.”

He looked at her with tired eyes. “You’re kidding me, right?”

Eve tapped her badge. “This says I’m not.”

“Lady, do you know how many kids swarm through here pawing through everything? How many moms or dads drag a kid in here to try on a mountain of shoes?”

“It’s Lieutenant, and no, I don’t. I’m only looking for one, almost certainly alone. Size six to seven on the shoes.”

“I can’t tell you. Seriously.”

“Seriously, how about you check and see when you moved a pair that matches that description?”

“Well, it’ll get me off the floor.”

As he walked away, Eve watched a woman with one hand in a death grip on a kid’s arm—a boy, about twelve—shove a shoe at the clerk with the other.

“These, in the red. Size seven and a half.”

“I’ll check.”

“And she has to be measured.” She pointed at a girl of about eight sulking on a bench.

“I’ll be right with you.”

The clerk escaped.

“I don’t want those!” The boy whined it in a tone that should have shattered glass in a three-block area. “I want Air Cats!”

“I’m not paying for Air Cats when you’ll grow out of them in five minutes. You can have the damn Air Cats when your feet stop growing.”

“See,” Peabody murmured.

“Shalla, do you want the pink or the green sneaks?”

“I want Air Cats, too.”

“Yeah, well, I want a vacation in Fiji. We’re all going to have to live with our disappointments. Sit by your sister, Garret.”

When he did, with a solid foot between them, the mother dropped into a chair. “Have kids, they told me. They’ll fill your life with joy and adventure. Your heart will swell with love.”

Closing her eyes, she breathed, then sighed.

“Let’s get through this, okay, kids? Then we’ll go get ice cream.”

The clerk came out of the back, handed her a shoebox and a sympathetic smile. “Give me one more minute, and I’ll measure your girl.”

He crossed back to Eve. “Haven’t sold a size seven in over a month. Three weeks ago on the six in red, five weeks in black. Two weeks ago, the last six and a half, and the new shipment hasn’t come in.”

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