Page 16 of Delivering David

Ruth and Thomas McCallister were a retired couple who lived two streets over from the Johnsons’ house. In their backyard, Mrs. McCallister had what she called a ‘she-shed,’ a place where she could be by herself or ask friends to come over and hang out. T.J. wasn’t exactly sure what they did there, but he’d heard Mrs. Johnson and some other women in the neighborhood talking about it at the ‘Meet, Eat and Greet’ last month. T.J. had learned a long time ago, if you keep your mouth shut and ears open, you could pick up all kinds of useful stuff.

Including that Mrs. McCallister had a bad habit of leaving her she-shed unlocked.

And David might know that.

It wasn’t far but T.J. forced himself to walk at an easy stroll, so no one who didn’t know him would think he was up to something. Adults freaked out if they saw a kid they didn’t recognize. On the McCallister’s’ street, there was a long alley with high thick hedges hiding the houses that ran behind them. The hedge was thick and woody, and you could barely see anything on the other side.

Taking another deep breath, T.J. clutched his board to his chest and shoved through the hedge, glad for his long sleeves and pants. The branches were prickly and smelled like a Christmas tree. And besides, it was cold. Good thing there was no snow.

So that was Mrs. McCallister’s “she-shed.” It looked like those storage sheds you could buy at one of those big box home improvement stores. This one was huge and painted white and someone had installed real windows and put up curtains. The curtains were closed but a faint light showed inside. Big pots stood beneath the windows, but they were empty. Guess it was too cold for flowers.

Wondering if the front of the she-shed would look the same as the back, T.J. crept along its side. More windows on the front, with the curtains drawn but he could still see that faint light. Either David had turned on the lights or Mrs. McCallister had forgotten to turn them off before she left. Mrs. Johnson said the older woman was nice but a real airhead.

Cautiously, he stepped up to the front door and put his head against it, listening. Then he tapped his fingertips against it and waited. A quick touch to the doorknob showed it was locked. Hopefully David had thought about doing that, ‘specially if he got here last night or early this morning.

If he was in there.

Reaching into the back pocket of his jeans, T.J. took out the small case of picklocks a buddy at a shelter in Nashville gave him years ago. “Never know when you’ll need them,” Oscar had told him. “You might need to take cover inside some place, fast.” T.J. always carried them when he was away from the house. The Johnsons would probably have a cow if they knew T.J. had them, but what they didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them.

His choice of pick was lucky because the door opened up right after he inserted it into the lock and the door opened. With another glance behind him, T.J. stepped inside, stuck the pick into his pocket and closed the door.

The inside was all one room but the way it was set up made it look like a small apartment. Little sofas and chairs, low tables and a desk pushed up against the window that faced the hedge. There was even an itty-bitty kitchen area and a table with chairs. A closed door suggested a bathroom.

And on the far side of the room, curled up under a blanket on a daybed, was a sleeping David Phillips.

Now what?T.J. hadn’treallyexpected to find David here. It was more of a lucky guess, but now he had to decide whether to tell David about his mom or take him to the cops and let them do it. Both of those were crappy choices.

And he had better decide fast, because David was squinting at him.

“T.J.?” David said, his voice thick with sleep. “What’s going on?”

“Lookin’ for you, little dude,” T.J. told him. “How’d you get in here?”

“It wasn’t locked,” David yawned. “But I locked it when I got here ‘cause of that guy. How’d you get in?”

“Picked the lock,” T.J. went to sit on the daybed, pulled out the pick and held I up. “I saw the light and thought maybe you might be here.” He took out the case and returned the pick to its place and held it out. “Pretty wicked, huh?”

“Wicked,” David echoed, rubbing his eyes. “Can you get in anywhere you want?”

“Pretty much,” T.J. admitted. “What guy?”

“The guy who was in my house last night, hurting my mom.” Abruptly David began to cry in big noisy gulps. “Or I think it was him. He might be the same one I saw from the Big Tree when I woke up in the woods earlier. Do you know if my mom is okay?”

Double crap.“Did you run away last night?” T.J. hoped he could keep the kid talking and not start asking questions.

“Yeah. Suze told me to get under my bed, when I called her last night, but I was scared and ran away.” Tears streamed down David’s cheeks. “I gotta go back to the house to see if my mom is okay. Will you go with me?”

Suze. Wonder if that’s that Suzanne social worker. “Listen, little dude,” T.J. said slowly. “The cops were all over the neighborhood last night, so you need to stay here a bit longer until I find out what’s going on. It might not be safe to come out yet. Are you hungry?”

“Starved,” David said eagerly, and again grateful for something to keep the boy from asking questions, T.J. searched the kitchen and quickly put together a sandwich, found some chips, cookies and a sparkling beverage.

“This should hold you.” He beckoned David to the table. “Tell you what. I’m gonna look around and come back and tell you what’s going on. I think I remember Mrs. McCallister saying there are lots of games on the TV, so you eat, and I’ll see what I can find.”

When David was settled in front of the TV, the remotes in hand, and a stack of DVDs beside him, T.J. advised him to keep the sound down, the lights off and the door locked. Then he left. Back on the street that led to his house, T.J. mounted the skateboard and pushed off. He had a big mess on his hands, with no idea what he was gonna tell the Johnsons and–

“Hey, kid,” a voice called from behind him. “Come over here a minute, will you please?”

Pivoting, T.J. saw a police cruiser slowly coming down the street. Switching into super-helpful mode, he stepped off the board. When the cruiser stopped, he could see two uniformed officers in the front seat.Play it cool, man.“Hey, officer,” he called cheerfully. “What’s up?”

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