SIX

At breakfast the next morning, Roy asked if it was against the law for a kid his age not to go to school.

His mother said, "Well, I'm not sure if it's an actual law but-"

"Oh yes, it is," his father cut in. "Truancy is what it's called."

"Can they put you in jail?" Roy asked.

"Usually they just put you back in school," Mr. Eberhardt said. Half-jokingly he added, "You weren't thinking of dropping out, were you?"

Roy said no, school was all right.

"I bet I know what this is about," Mrs. Eberhardt said. "You're worried about bumping into that Matherson boy again. See, didn't I tell you the apology letter was too assertive?"

"The letter was just fine," Roy's father said, spreading open the newspaper.

"If it was 'just fine,' then why is Roy so scared? Why's he talking about dropping out of school?"

"I'm not scared," Roy said, "and I don't want to drop out of Trace Middle. It's just…"

His mother eyed him. "What?"

"Nothing, Mom."

Roy decided not to tell his parents about his encounter with Mullet Fingers, the running boy. Being in law enforcement, Roy's father probably was required to report all crimes, even truancy. Roy didn't want to get the kid in trouble.

"Listen to this," Mr. Eberhardt said, and began reading aloud from the newspaper: "'A Coconut Cove police cruiser was vandalized early Monday morning while parked at a construction site on East Oriole Avenue. The officer had fallen asleep inside the car at the time, according to a police spokesperson.' Can you believe that?"

Roy's mother clucked. "Sleeping on duty? That's disgraceful. They should fire that fellow."

Roy thought the story was pretty amusing.

"It gets better," his father said. "Listen: 'The incident happened shortly before sunrise, when an unknown prankster sneaked up to the patrol car, a 2001 Crown Victoria, and spray-painted the windows with black paint.'"

Roy, who had a mouthful of raisin bran, burst out laughing. Milk dribbled down his chin.

Mr. Eberhardt was also smiling as he continued: "'Coconut Cove Police Chief Merle Deacon declined to release the name of the officer who fell asleep, saying that he is part of a special surveillance team investigating property crimes on the east side of town. Deacon said the officer has recently been ill with the flu and had been given medication that made him drowsy.'"

Roy's father looked up from the article. "Medication, ha!"

"What else does the story say?" Mrs. Eberhardt asked.

"Let's see… It says this was the third suspicious incident within a week at this location, which is the future home of a Mother Paula's All-American Pancake House."

Roy's mother brightened. "We're getting a Mother Paula's here in Coconut Cove? That'll be nice."

Roy swabbed a napkin across his chin. "Dad, what else happened out there?"

"I was wondering the same thing." Mr. Eberhardt skimmed the rest of the article. "Here it is: 'Last Monday, unknown intruders uprooted survey stakes from the property. Four days later, vandals entered the site and placed live alligators in three portable toilets. According to police, the reptiles were captured unharmed and later released into a nearby canal. No arrests have been made.'"

Mrs. Eberhardt rose and started clearing the breakfast dishes. "Alligators!" she said. "Good heavens, what next?"

Mr. Eberhardt folded the paper and tossed it on the kitchen counter. "This is turning out to be an interesting little town after all, isn't it, Roy?"

Roy picked up the newspaper to see for himself. East Oriole Avenue sounded familiar. As he read the story, Roy remembered where he'd seen that street sign. Beatrice Leep's bus stop, the place he had first spotted the running boy, was on West Oriole Avenue, just the other side of the main highway.

"The article doesn't say how big those gators were," Roy remarked.

His father chuckled. "I don't think it's important, son. I think it's the thought that counts."

The police captain said, "I've read your report, David. Is there anything else you'd like to add?"

Officer Delinko shook his head. His hands were folded on his lap. What could he say?

His sergeant spoke up: "David understands how serious this is."

"'Embarrassing' is the word," the captain said. "The chief has been sharing some of the e-mails and phone messages with me. It's not pretty. Did you see the newspaper?"

Officer Delinko nodded. He had read and reread the article a dozen times. Each time it made his stomach churn.

"You probably noticed that your name wasn't mentioned," the captain said. "That's because we refused to release it to the media."

"Yes. Thank you," Officer Delinko said. "I'm very sorry about all this, sir."

"And you read Chief Deacon's explanation for what happened? I assume you're comfortable with that."

"To be honest, sir, I haven't had the flu. And I wasn't taking any medication yesterday-"

"David," the sergeant cut in, "if the chief says you were taking flu medicine, you were definitely taking flu medicine. And if the chief says that's why you fell asleep in your patrol car, then that's exactly what happened. Understand?"

"Oh. Yes, sir."

The captain held up a yellow slip of paper. "This is a bill from the Ford dealership for four hundred and ten bucks. They got that black paint off your windows, that's the good news. Took 'em all day, but they did it."

Officer Delinko was sure that the captain was going to hand him the repair bill, but he didn't. Instead he placed it inside the patrolman's personnel file, which lay open on his desk.

"Officer, I don't know what to do with you. I just don't." The captain's tone was one of paternal disappointment.

"I'm very sorry. It won't happen again, sir."

Officer Delinko's sergeant said, "Captain, I ought to tell you that David volunteered for this surveillance duty at the construction site. And he went out early in the morning, on his own off-duty time."

"His own time?" The captain folded his arms. "Well, that's commendable. David, can I ask why you did that?"

"Because I wanted to catch the perpetrators," Officer Delinko replied. "I knew it was a priority with you and the chief."

"That's the only reason? You didn't have some sort of personal stake in this case?"

I do now, thought Officer Delinko. Now that they've made a fool of me.

"No, sir," he said.

The captain turned his attention toward the sergeant. "Well, there's got to be some type of punishment, whether we like it or not. The chief's taking too much grief over this."

"I agree," the sergeant said.

Officer Delinko's heart sank. Any disciplinary action would automatically become part of his permanent record. It might be an issue when it came time for a promotion.

"Sir, I'll pay that bill myself," Officer Delinko offered. Four hundred and ten dollars was a serious chunk out of his paycheck, but keeping his record spotless was worth every penny.

The captain said it wasn't necessary for Officer Delinko to cover the bill-and that wouldn't satisfy the chief, anyway. "So I'm putting you on desk duty," he said, "for a month."

"David can live with that," said the sergeant.

"But what about the Mother Paula's surveillance?" Officer Delinko asked.

"Don't worry, we'll get it covered. We'll pull somebody off the midnight shift."

"Yes, sir." Officer Delinko was depressed at the idea of being stuck behind a desk, doing nothing for a whole boring month. Still, it was better than being suspended. The only thing worse than sitting at headquarters would be sitting at home.

The captain stood up, which meant the meeting was over. He said, "David, if anything like this ever happens again…"