Warning Shot

“Bought it for Morris, here. But two ought to do him.”

Morris gave the burger in the sheriff’s hands a look of regret before dipping the last of his fries into his ice-cream sundae.

“This is Morris Coopersmith,” said Trace. “Morris, this is Rylee Hockings. She’s with Homeland Security.”

Stanley Coopersmith was one of the persons of interest.

Morris’s brows lifted, and his hand stilled. When he spoke, his voice broke. “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.” Rylee accepted the wrapped burger Sheriff Trace extended. “Any relationship to Stanley Coopersmith?”

Morris grinned and nodded. “That’s my dad.” Then the smile waned. “He doesn’t like comics.”

Morris’s dad was on her watch list. He led a colony of like-minded doomsday survivalists, who had their camp right on the New York side of the border. It would be simple for such a group to transport anything or anyone they liked through the woods and over the border in either direction.

“Want some pickles?” asked Morris, offering the ones he had plucked from his burgers.

“No, thank you,” she said to Morris. Her phone chimed and she checked to see the incoming text was unimportant.

Morris pointed. “Do you have a camera on that?”

Rylee nodded.

“Take our picture,” he insisted and moved closer to the sheriff.

Rylee gave the sheriff a questioning look and received a shrug in response, so she opened the camera app and took a photo.

Morris reached for her phone and she allowed him to take it and watched closely as he admired the shot. At last, he handed her back her phone.

She asked the sheriff, “Are you two related?”

It was a blind guess. Morris was pink and lanky; his body type more like a basketball player. Axel’s blond hair, sun-kissed skin and muscular physique seemed nearly opposite to the boy’s.

She wasn’t sure why she didn’t delete the photo, but she left it and tucked her phone away. Then she turned her attention to her meal. She had a mouthful of burger when the sheriff dispelled her first guess.

“I’m transporting Morris from his home to the jail in Kinsley due to failure to report to his last hearing. He’s got to be in court in the morning.”

“Oh,” she said, forcing the word past the mouthful of food. She knew the shock was clear on her face. Did he usually stop to buy suspects dinner? She had so many questions but turned to Morris. “I’m sorry for your trouble. I hope the hearing goes well.”

“Doubtful. Not the first time I got picked up.”

“Oh, I see.” The investigator portion of her was dying to ask what exactly he had repeatedly been picked up for.

“I steal things,” said Morris and grinned.

“Morris,” said the sheriff, his tone an admonition. “What did I say?”

“Let my lawyer do the talking?” said the boy.

“And?”

“Don’t discuss the case.”

Axel Trace nodded solemnly.

Morris turned to Rylee. “But I wasn’t stealing for me this time. So that will be all right.” He glanced to the sheriff for reassurance and received none.

Axel Trace looked as if he were taking his dog to the vet to be put down. His mouth tugged tight and his eyes... Were they glistening? His repeat blinking and the large swallow of soda he took seemed answer enough. Sheriff Trace cared for this boy.

Rylee choked down the rest of the burger in haste. Morris finished his sundae and grinned, smacking his lips in satisfaction. On closer inspection, he did not seem quite a boy but a man acting like a boy. He certainly didn’t have a grip on the seriousness of his position. Why hadn’t the information on Stanley Coopersmith included that he had a boy with special needs?

“How old are you, Morris?” she asked.

“Twenty.” He showed a gap-toothed smile.

That was bad news. “I see.”

She glanced to Trace, whose mouth went tight. Then she looked back to Morris. Her gaze slid to the sheriff.

He motioned to Morris with two fingers. “Come on, sport. Time to go.”

Morris stood, towering over the sheriff by six inches. He was painfully thin. He wore neither handcuffs nor zip ties on his wrists. Trace pointed at his unit. Morris wadded up his paper wrappers and shot them basketball-style, as if hitting a foul shot. Then he cheered for his success and finally slipped into the passenger side of the sheriff’s car.

“Is that wise? Having him up front with you?” she asked.

“Morris and I have an agreement.”

Morris called from inside the cruiser. “Coke and comic for good behavior.”

She stared at the young man and staunched the urge to open the door and release him.

“You have a good evening, Rylee.”

“Thank you for the burger, Axel.” The intentional use of his first name seemed all right. He’d used her given name first. But he just stood there, staring at her. And her breath was coming in short staccato bursts; she regretted dropping the distance of formality.

He gave her the kind of smile that twisted her heart and then returned to his duty, delivering a boy who should be entering a group home to the court systems.

Rylee headed back to her motel but then veered instead into the Walmart parking lot. It wasn’t until she found herself in the books section that she realized she was looking at comics. The boy was spending the night in jail; he could at least have another superhero to keep him company.

Rylee made her purchase and used the GPS to find the jail in Kinsley. There, she was buzzed in and escorted back by a patrolman who allowed her to give Morris the graphic novel.

“You are a nice lady.” Morris beamed. Then his voice held a note of chastisement. “Did you pay for this?”

She would have laughed if not faced with a boy who should not have been there in the first place.

Chapter Four (#u33d6a793-5388-5215-9aa5-4545932e00cf)

Observe and report. Rylee took her chief’s directive to heart as she set off the next morning, the first Tuesday of September, to observe the next group on the watch list. The survivalists headed by Stanley Coopersmith. The group’s rhetoric centered around surviving the apocalypse triggered by foreign terrorists. Ironic, as that scenario might turn out much more plausible than anyone in federal law enforcement had thought until a few months ago and the very reason she was here today.