Page 45 - Labelle Gramercy, On the Case

Thrown for a Loss

rings? Well, here’s your chance to get some more. We want you guys
to sit over there at that empty table between Smoothie Heaven and
Fryin’ Time for a little bit. Then we’ll talk to you and that will be that.
You can go off and tell everybody you were right in the middle of all
this excitement.”
That didn’t seem to brighten them up very much. All you can do is
try. Teenagers are moody, and they haven’t learned that one emotion
can’t be hidden by displaying another just as intensely. The trick is to
figure out what they really feel versus what is just a cover-up. They
trooped off without a word like condemned convicts in a chain gang.
So maybe they were really excited about the situation. I followed
them as far as the bench occupied by Autumn Pratt and Labelle
Gramercy, and I can report that nothing passed between that pair
and the boys. Yes, I was beginning to wonder why the policewoman
didn’t isolate them from each other and why she was so obviously
putting them in a sort of confrontation with this particular victim,
almost like a lineup. That wasn’t far from the truth.
I sat down on the bench. No doubt Labelle had intentionally left
the space open on the other side of Autumn for me. My role had to
be something like the good cop, or at least a bit more motherly than
the lieutenant, who was all business. Frankly, I could not imagine Ms.
Gramercy giving much real sympathy, and that is what this girl
needed. If she wasn’t still in shock, she couldn’t have been far away,
and wouldn’t need much pressure to be pushed right back into it.
I took her hand, the one that wasn’t bandaged. “It’s going to be
okay, honey. Your folks will be here soon, and you can go home.”
Maybe the lieutenant had already opened some other line of
communication. Maybe I put my foot in it, because the girl
immediately started crying. So I put my arm around her shoulder
lightly. That had to be the right thing to do. Labelle merely raised her
eyebrows a quarter of an inch.
“Ms. Pratt’s parents died in an automobile accident six years ago.
She has been living with her grandmother. We shall have to make
some arrangements for her care. I have begun that process, but we
must wait until tomorrow when the courts are in session to find her
an appropriate place to stay. She is a minor.”
“Oh.” This was way beyond the job description of a security
guard. When the mall closed at ten p.m., my responsibilities ended

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