It was almost too easy scaling the fire escape of a nearby upscale apartment building and setting up shop on the roof. Nick loaned me a pair of binoculars. Apparently his wife had been a big bird-watcher and he couldn't bear to get rid of them even though they never got used. I knew her name was Rita but for whatever reason I always just thought of her as Nick's wife and the boy, James, as Nick's son. Maybe because I never met them their names didn't hold meaning for me. Just the emotion when Nick talked about them.
The sunset was a real stunner. Cindy would have loved it. I allowed myself to think of her fondly for a while, trying not to focus on why she wasn't here to see this sunset personally. The dark brought the cold with it and I hunkered down in my warmest black jacket, hoping that Robin Hood showed up before I was here all night.
An hour passed. Then two. I was ready to call Nick and hurl nasty names at him for coming up with this idiotic plan that had me freezing my butt off and dying from boredom at the same time when I saw it. Someone was jimmying the door three stories down. Once they were in, I figured I didn't have long to make my move. I did a flying leap and roll onto DavInc's roof and picked the lock on the hatch to get inside.
The building was laid out kind of confusingly so I had to pop my head in almost a dozen doors to find the room Robin Hood was in. I tiptoed into the room through the open door and just watched for a moment while the cat burglar typed what I assumed was code to wire Davis' personal money to cancer charities. I was still trying to figure out what to say when the figure in the hoodie turned around.
I was completely horrified. "You're a KID."
The boy couldn't have been more than fifteen. He was thin, gangly, and had floppy hair dyed bright pink. He jumped up so fast he knocked over the chair and tried to bolt out the window. I launched myself across the room and pinned him to the ground before he got the chance.
"Please don't arrest me!" he pleaded. His voice cracked on the word "don't." My heart twinged. I'd worked cases with kids his age and he was already resorting to a life of crime.
"I'm not a cop. I just want to talk, I promise."
"I don't believe you. Why else would you be here?"
"I wanted to warn you that someone has connected your burglaries. I wanted to enlist your help to stop them," I said simply.
He peered up at me with interest. "Why do you want my help?"
"Well, you're smart enough to pull this off without getting caught for this long. Why not?"
"I meant why do you need help with it," he clarified.
"You're a vigilante. You aren't doing this for yourself. You're looking out for other people who need help. So am I. I have another friend who is too. The person who connected your crimes has connected ours. We're trying to figure out how to protect ourselves and think you could help."
I didn't want to explain that we were murderers. The kid might freak out and report me. Granted, my hair was twisted up under a black ski cap but with a good enough sketch artist, he might be able to get my face out to the masses. That would be a disaster.
"You can get off me now," the kid said. "I'm not going anywhere."
"Sorry," I said and helped him up. "So, why are you doing this?"
The kid scuffed at the carpet with the toe of his sneakers and wouldn't meet my eyes. "My mom died of breast cancer. My dad's job took away our health insurance so she couldn't go to chemo anymore. She was getting better before that."
"How long has it been?" I asked gently.
"Seven or eight months," the kid said dejectedly. "The boss cut health insurance so he could buy a third mansion. That isn't right. My mom shouldn't have died so he could have another fancy house. Wasn't one enough?"
"You're right. That man did a terrible thing. And I think you're doing a great job honoring your mom's memory, donating to all of those cancer charities. You're saving lives." I used soothing techniques I'd learned at work and they seemed to be working. The kid was opening up to me.
"You know about that?" He seemed surprised.
I shrugged. "My friend did a little digging on the internet. I imagine you're a lot better at that than he is though."
His chest puffed up with pride. "I'm really good at hacking. I could hack almost anything I bet."
"We could really use that hacking talent," I admitted. "But even if you don't help us I just wanted to be sure you knew that someone was looking into what you do."
The kid considered this a moment and frowned. "How did you find me?"
"Dumb luck and a lot of guesswork. My roommate is doing her master's thesis in criminology on rising crime patterns. Yours, mine, and my friend's popped up in her research. I peeked at her files and did a lot of digging to guess where and when you'd strike next. I don't think she's gotten quite that far yet."
"You said you and your friend are vigilantes too. What do you do?"
I cringed inwardly before giving a carefully crafted answer. "I protect kids whose parents hurt them."
"And your friend?"
"He protects people from gangs."
The kid smiled wryly. "I'm guessing this protection involves getting people out of the way."
My jaw dropped. The kid was perceptive, I'd give him that. "How on earth did you guess that?"
The kid shrugged. "I may be fourteen but I'm not stupid. What's your story?"
"Promise not to tell?" I asked like a kid at a sleepover divulging a crush. I needed to keep things on his level or the situation would quickly spiral out of my control.
"I don't even know your name."
"Fair enough." The kid was good. I figured I could humor him with some basic information. Especially if I wanted to get him on my side. "At my work I see kids who get abused and neglected by their parents all the time. Sometimes we do everything we can but we can't protect them from their parents. That's where I come in. A while back I saved a little girl from her dad molesting her. She and her brother are in a good home now. They're happy. I saw them in the store the other day and they both seem like normal, healthy kids. I don't regret it."
"Alright, I get that. What about your friend?"
I shrugged. "He works in a hospital. When someone from a gang comes in seriously sick or injured he just makes sure they don't come out again."
"You seem okay," the kid confessed. "I'm not so sure about your friend."
"Gangs killed his family," I said gently. "He's preventing someone else from losing theirs."
He started cracking up. It took a few minutes for him to get it under control enough to speak. "This is so bizarre. We all have sad supervillain origin stories and you're trying to convince me that we're the good guys."
"I never said I was good," I said lightly. I was about as far from good as someone could get. "I just do what needs to be done. I'd sell my soul to save any child in a desperate situation."
"It looks like you have," the kid observed, arms crossed over his chest.
I shrugged again. "Doesn't matter to me. I'm already in hell. Can't be much different than here."
The kid eyed me shrewdly. "This isn't just about saving kids at work then. This is more personal than that. What's your tragic backstory?"
I needed this kid to trust me. The way kids typically worked, if you told them something about you, they trusted you more than if you didn't. "My sister was raped and murdered by a psycho at age seventeen. I won't stand for anyone who hurts kids, no matter how old they are."
"So you won't hurt me no matter what I do," he surmised.
"Of course not! Besides, in my book, you haven't really done anything wrong. Those selfish billionaires had it coming to them."
He eyed me a moment. "You mean that. You aren't just trying to flatter me."
I joked, "For a habitual liar I'm actually quite honest."
That brought on a smile. "You're alright. I'm pretty sure you're not going to bust me so I won't bust you either. I'm Jace."
"Lori." We shook hands. "So are you in?"
"I'll have to meet your friend to be sure but yeah, let's say I'm in as long as he's as okay as you are."
"Works for me. Give me your phone number and I'll call you tomorrow. What's the best time?" I still wasn't 100% sure Jace was trustworthy. I didn't want to give him my number in case he did decide to rat me out. I could block it before calling him and set up a time to meet with Nick. If the kid didn't want in, he didn't have anything against me. Except my face, but there was nothing I could really do about that.
"Any time after school. My dad works overtime still trying to pay off medical bills and funeral expenses," he said angrily, aiming a kick at the overturned chair. "He doesn't know or care what I'm up to."
That sounded like a case for social services but I couldn't go there for a dozen reasons. "I'm sorry to hear that," I said sincerely. "I'll call you after I get off work, okay?"
"Okay. Thanks for not ratting me out when you caught me here."
I waved off his concern. "Carry on. I'll talk to you tomorrow."
"Wait, don't go out the front door! I'm not ready."
"I'm not going out the front door. I'm going out the roof. See ya, Jace." With that dramatic exit, I scurried to the roof and flew across several rooftops before making it to my car, changing back into the date clothes, and driving home.
"Someone was out late," Faye remarked when I came through the door.
"What can I say, time flies when you're having fun," I quipped as I removed my heels and shoved them in the closet.
Faye was quiet a moment. "You really like him, don't you? I can tell."
Good, my act was working. I tried not to think about my act working on Jonathan. "Yeah, I do. Night Faye."
"Night."
I flopped on my bed, churning with guilt about Jonathan and anticipation about having a potential second ally. I stroked a purring Fizzy, who had taken up residence on my pillow, while trying to decide how to go from there. It was late, but Nick was probably just getting off work so I gave him a call, praying he'd pick up.
"Hello? Lori?"
I took a deep breath before launching into the story. "Have I got news for you."