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Ted looks at me. “How’d you know?”
“Not everything is written down in the manuals.”
The call is from a small grocery store reporting a shoplifter. When we go inside, an older man is holding onto a teenage girl. She is struggling to free her arm from his grasp while yelling at him. Ted puts a hand on his sidearm and I stop him from taking it out.
“Relax.” I approach the shop owner. “Sir, Officer Brandt here with my partner. Let go of the girl, sir.”
He glances at me. “She stole from me.”
“I understand. But you really need to let go of her arm.” The man relaxes his grip and takes a step back.
I look at the girl, then motion for her to come to me. She eyes the guy for a moment, then moves slowly toward me. As she does, I glance at Ted. “Take his statement.”
“Yes, sir.”
I take the girl’s arm and lead her out the front of the store. “What’s going on?”
She shrugs.
“You can talk to me here or you can talk to me at the station.”
“It was just a lip balm.”
I let go of her arm and she takes a couple steps back away from me. “Do you still have it on you?”
“No. I gave it back to him. Crazy old man.” She assumes a defiant stance with her arms crossed over her chest.
“You’re lucky he didn’t shoot you.” I study her for a moment. “You didn’t have a couple bucks to just pay for the lip balm?”
“Of course I did.”
“So…cheap thrills?”
She relaxes a bit. “My friends said I didn’t have the guts to do it.”
“You need new friends. How do I get a hold of your parents?”
“My parents? I’d rather you arrest me.”
I take her arm again. “Okay.”
“No. Wait.” She pulls her cell phone from her back pocket and hands it to me. “My mother is listed as the Evil Queen.”
I let go of her and take the phone. “Got it.”
The girl’s mother shows up after about thirty minutes and I can’t help but agree with the Evil Queen comparison. I understand that she isn’t happy to have her day interrupted by her rebellious daughter but she shows no sign of compassion or willingness to listen to her daughter’s story. She’s also rude and condescending to me. Before we sign off on the call, I leave the girl with some advice.
“If your friends are trying to talk you into something stupid and possibly dangerous, don’t do it. And secondly, you’ll be out of school and able to get away from your mother soon enough. Just ride it out. Things will go a lot smoother for you without a juvenile criminal record.”
“So, this isn’t going to go on my record?”
“Nope. But the next one will.”
She cocks her head at me. “Did you ever shoplift anything when you were a kid?”
“I did. A pocketknife.”
“Did you get caught?”
