“Thank you for coming with me today,” I said. “Of course, I’m sure you’re sticking to me like glue to make sure I don’t fudge my community service hours.”
Chase grinned. “Do you know who your girl is?”
I thought back to the paper I’d memorized. “Regina Hathaway. Street name Tiny.”
“Oh great, she has a street name.”
I smiled. “This was her third arrest for shoplifting and resisting arrest.”
“Of course it was.”
The county’s group home for girls was located in the town of Clover, about thirty minutes northeast from Trinity Falls. This wasn't my first visit to the girls home. I'd come many times over the years. Not because I had to, but because I wanted to. Sometimes I was able to make a connection, and sometimes I wasn't.
Arlene Sawyer greeted us at the door. She'd been the coordinator for the girls group home for as long as I could remember. She was mid-fifties, short brown hair, dark glasses, and had a sturdy build. She was a no-nonsense woman who loved her job, but didn’t take crap from the girls.
“Alexa, so good to see you.” She gave me a brief hug, then turned to Chase. “And when I heard that you were bringing a police officer, I was equally excited. It will be good for Regina to see the human side of a cop.”
I grunted. Mainly becauseIwas still getting used to seeing the human side of my cop.
“What did you do to your foot?” Arlene asked, leading us inside.
“I sprained it. It should be back to normal in another day or two. Thanks for asking.”
“Regina is in the parlor. Go ahead and go on in.” She laid a hand on my arm. “Have fun. See you back here in about four hours.”
Chase and I entered the small room off the foyer. Regina was sitting stiffly on the couch, arms crossed over her chest, huge scowl on her face.
“This should be fun,” Chase muttered.
I smiled but didn’t say anything else.
“So I guess you're my punishment?” Regina snapped.
“Are you talking to one of us?” Chase asked. “Or both of us?”
The sullen girl snorted. “Both, duh. You two do-gooders look like you're gonna do nothing but lecture me the whole four hours.”
I knew most of Regina’s words were just for show. Behind the bluster and attitude, I saw a scared girl. She didn't look to be more than sixteen years old, stringy brown hair, pitted completion, and way too thin.
“I thought maybe we would go shopping,” I said, “and talk about all the ways shoplifting affects everyone.”
Chase gave me a funny look. “One, it's against the law. Two, when Regina here steals, prices go up, and I as the consumer have to pay more money. That makes me angry. There, that was easy enough.”
Regina rolled her eyes. “Oh my gosh, what’re you, a cop or something?”
“I am,” Chase said. “Good guess.”
The girl turned flashing angry eyes on me. “And what’s that make you, a social worker?”
Chase let out a bark of laughter, and I glared at him.
“I suppose you could call me a social worker of sorts,” I said.
Chase crossed his arms over his massive chest and shook his head. “No way.” He turned to the angry girl on the couch. “She's staying at my house for a week because she’s on house arrest. I’m here to make sure she does her community service. I am a cop, and you both have committed crimes. That means we’re going to spend the next four hours trying to figure out how it is we can get you both to not be repeat offenders.”
“House arrest?” Regina asked with just a little too much awe in her voice.
“Yes,” I said, “and I'm very sorry for what I did.”
