Chapter 16
Cable switched on the hazard lights and turned off the car. Jack and Quinn jumped out their passenger-side doors. The nearest police officer looked over at them.
“You can’t stop your car there, sir,” he called over.
“This is our bookstore,” said Jack, “what’s going on?”
Jack and Quinn ducked under the yellow police tape that blocked the sidewalk. Cable pulled the car back out into traffic and drove off down the block. The front of the bookstore was a mess. The glass door had been shattered and there was glass all over the floor inside the store. There was glass all over the sidewalk too. Evidently the front window had been broken from inside. Jack noticed at a glance that all the boxes of Souvlakis books, which had been stacked beside the counter and labeled “not for sale,” were gone. The computer was still there, although the keyboard had been yanked off and lay on the ground behind the counter. Business cards and paper bags littered the floor, along with books of all sorts. Several of the crossword puzzle books which Quinn had stacked elsewhere were strewn across the ground as well.
“Are you,” began the police officer, consulting a pocket notebook ‘Paul Cymrot’?”
“No. I’m his nephew,” said Jack, “he’s out of town and he left us in charge of the store.”
“Can we go in?” asked Quinn.
“Not yet,” said the officer.
Jack looked past the officer into the shattered storefront. There were two firemen inside the store, but to Jack’s relief they were not wearing their gear. They seemed to be just looking around. The second police officer had joined them in there as well.
“What happened?” asked Jack again.
“It looks like you were robbed, I’m afraid,” said the officer. “I’m James Lawrence. We got a call about 15 minutes ago. Someone named – he checked his notebook again – Chad Carter -- reported robbery in progress. Officer Lawrence got here within five minutes. There was nobody here.”
“What was taken?” asked Jack.
The officer looked into the store. “Who knows,” he said. “It looks like there’s plenty left behind, though. They didn’t even get into the glass cases. Usually that’s the first place people go. Hope you’ve got insurance.”
The firemen came out through what remained of the door. He said to the Officer, “There’s nothing here that needs us. Nothing wired in these front walls.”
“Thank you anyway.”
The firemen got in their truck and left. The other police officer remained in the store. He was kicking the broken glass and scattered books towards the front of the store with the side of his shoe. In the shadows behind him, from the staircase leading down to the basement, a dark silhouette appeared.
“Leo!” shouted the Officer Lawrence, “behind you!”
The officer inside dove towards the side of the store rolling in broken glass as he did so and Officer Lawrence removed his gun from its holster. “Stop right there!” he screamed.
“It’s me. It’s me!” yelped the figure, holding up his hands. “It’s Cable.”
“Stay where you are,” commanded Officer Lawrence.
The other officer got to his feet. He and Officer Lawrence both faced Cable with their guns drawn, though not raised. Officer Lawrence flipped on the store lights. The halogen spotlights blazed. Cable stood trembling on the top step. His face was smeared with purple. His clothes were ruined purple too. His hair hung in his face.
“That’s my brother,” called Jack. “It’s OK. He’s with us.”
The officers allowed Cable to come up into the main floor of the store. They holstered their weapons.
“I’m so sorry,” said Cable. “I didn’t think. I parked the car out back and came in the back door. I didn’t think.”
The officers were clearly relieved that it was someone harmless. Cable identified himself and showed ID, as did the other boys. Both policemen were friendly and affable. The one called Leo, Leo Bloom, was the older brother of one of Quinn’s classmates and they had met many times before.
“Is someone looking for who whoever did this?” asked Quinn.
Officer Bloom shook his head. “We’re the first responders,” he said. “No one got a look at anyone.”
“How can that be?” said Jack, “this is the main street of town. There’s a restaurant on the corner with outdoor seating?”
The officers shrugged. “You’d be surprised what goes on even in broad daylight. At least someone called us. Sometimes there’s not even a phone call. I don’t suppose you know who this Chad Carter is?”
“Yeah, we do,” said Jack, “he’s a friend.”
“Do you have his number?” asked Officer Lawrence.
“Sure,” said Quinn. He flipped open his phone and speed dialed Chad.
He answered immediately.
“Hey Quinn. Are you OK? I’m on their trail,” said Chad. Quinn heard the blare of a horn in the background.
“Whose trail?” said Quinn, “where are you?”
“The frack-heads who smashed up the store -- Go back to Jersey, Grandpa!” shouted Chad.
Quinn held the phone away from his ear as another car horn blared through the tiny speakers. He switched it to speaker-phone.
“Chad!” said Quinn, “you’re chasing them! Who? Where are you?”
“Affirmative, little buddy,” said Chad, “headed north on Route 17. Pickup truck with Maryland plates – Get in right lane you somnambulist! – Logo on the truck says Franklin and Rogers something something.”
Cable heard the squeal of brakes and a chorus of horns. He winced, but heard no collision. “Are you there?”
“Yeah, I’m here,” said Chad. “They just made a u-turn across traffic and made it back to the on-ramp. I’m stuck, unless – hang on -–“ another blare of horns. “Yeah, I’m stuck. Criminy!”
“It’s OK Chad,” said Quinn. “Stop going after them. It’s OK.”
“Shazzbutt!” barked Chad. He slammed his fist on the passenger seat.
“Chad, we’re at the store wth the police,” said Quinn. “Can you come back here?”
There was a pause. “Yeah,” said Chad, “I’ve got to stash the van at the library. I’m not supposed to be driving it today. But I can come then. Did you say the police were there?”
“Yeah,” said Cable. “And you’re on—“
“Not that cutie-pie redhed cop, by any chance? If she’s there I want to go put on my new shirt,” interrupted Chad.
“—I was about to say,” continued Quinn, “you’re on speaker phone.”
“Doh!?” said Chad. Then cheerfully, “Hello officers.”
Quinn hung up the phone.
“So now what?” asked Jack. “Do you need to radio something to someone? They made it to the highway. Can we still catch them?”
“We’d need to fill out a report first,” said Officer Lawrence. “What about you guys? Do you know someone who can put a board over this opening for tonight?”
Jack nodded. “Yeah. But what about photographs. Do you need to take photographs? Should you dust for fingerprints?”
Officer Lawrence shook his head. “We don’t really do that.”
“There isn’t a security camera or anything in this place, is there?” asked the other officer, looking up at the corners.
Quinn shook his head.
“Y’all are lucky,” said the officer, “Look, they didn’t even take the cash drawer.” He pointed to the open cigar box with dollar bills in it.
“So is there anything you can do? At all?” asked Jack.
Officer Bloom shrugged. “You got a couple brooms? We can help sweep up.”
Quinn thanked him, but declined the offer. The officers were preparing to leave before Chad returned. They said they’d call him later for a statement, if they needed it. As they were returning to their car, Officer Bloom stopped and turned to ask another question, “just out of curiosity, what’s with the purple?”
“Painting project gone wrong,” said Quinn brightly. He grinned. “Sucks to be them, eh?”
“Try vinegar mixed with Windex,” said Officer Bloom, “I do that for paintball hits.”
“Thanks,” said Quinn.
Chad galumphed into the store as soon as the police car left. He was not wearing his new shirt. “Fredericksburg’s finest,” he remarked.
He looked at the store and then at the boys, raising an eyebrow at their condition.
“You fellows appear to be in some deep doo-doo,” he observed.
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