Page 39 of Hot Shot

“Okay.” Carrie sinks her teeth into that lip again, and my gaze strays there. “Tomorrow.”

Saturday afternoon, I fling open the back door of Conquistadors after the knock that sounds. There stand Carrie and a young girl whose eyes dart all over the place, despite the sullen, disinterested look she attempts.

“Come in,” I growl, stepping aside.

“Hello to you, too,” Carrie snaps. She slants me a look that clearly says,“What the fuck, asshole, could you be a little nicer?”

I set my jaw. I could be nicer, but I’m not going to be a pushover when it comes to Julia’s criminal activity. As far as I’m concerned, there’s right and there’s wrong, and people who have done wrong cannot go unpunished.

I lead the way into the office and shut the door. I motion to the chairs, and Carrie and Julia take a seat.

“I guess you know why you’re here,” I say to Julia as I move behind the desk. Then, for some reason, I change my mind, and instead sit on the desk facing them.

Julia nods and lifts her small chin. Despite her bravado, I can see the fear in her eyes.

“Do you admit to what you did?” Will she try to deny doing it, despite the evidence?

Julia casts her aunt a glance, firms her lips, and then says in a small voice, “Yes.”

“Good. Because this will go a lot better for you if you’re honest. Do you know how much it costs to repaint the outside of a building?”

Julia’s eyes flash. “You covered up my art.”

“Art?” My eyebrows launch upward.“Art?”

Her lips set in a slightly mutinous line. “Yes. Art. I spent a lot of time on that painting.”

I blink at her. Is she serious?

“Julia’s very creative,” Carrie says. “It seems this was a bit of an . . . outlet for her. For her creativity. And for some of the, uh, emotions she’s been experiencing lately.”

I pull in a slow breath, studying Julia.

I know about outlets. I know about emotions in turmoil, frustration and pain mingled with teenage hormones. It nearly destroyed my life as a teenager. It resulted in me being shipped from home to home, nobody wanting to put up with my shit, and nearly led to an entirely different life. If I hadn’t made the smart decision to join the Navy, I’d probably be in jail right now.

I know about boosting cars and vandalism and petty theft. I know about a nearly retired cop who saw something in me that was worth saving, who led me down a different path, who suggested the Navy as a way to learn a trade, make some honest money, and turn my life around.

I haven’t thought about Bob Cole for quite a while. Still haven’t forgiven the old bugger for dying while I was in Afghanistan. Like everyone else I cared about, Bob abandoned me. But maybe I learned more from Bob than I realized, as I find myself saying, “Graffiti on our walls is vandalism. It creates a negative impression of the business we’re running here. It scares people away from our neighborhood because they think the area is full of crime. People don’t want to hang out in crime-ridden areas late at night. We lose business. This is how we earn our living, and to be honest, we don’t earn a lot to start with. We have to pay to have it painted over. That costs us even more.” I pause and hold her gaze steadily. “Do you think about those things when you’re defacing someone’s property?”

She pauses, then whispers, “No.”

“Well, you should. I know you’re just a kid, but part of growing up is thinking about more than just yourself.”

Tears glisten in her eyes, but she determinedly blinks them away.

This encourages me. If she was a little psychopath with no remorse, we’d have a tougher job ahead of us. Clearly Julia realizes she’s done something wrong.

“I’m good at it,” she says, her voice low but with a hint of defiance. “The people I hang out with think I’m the best.”

I look to Carrie.

“She started out doing it on her own,” Carrie explains in a gentle voice that I feel in my balls. “There’s a . . . gang . . .”

I wince at the word “gang.”

“They saw her work and brought her into their group,” Carrie continues. She glances at Julia, then reaches out and takes her hand. I note that Julia doesn’t pull away, but grasps her aunt’s hand. It looks like they have a pretty close relationship.

Something twangs in my chest.

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