Page 13 of Herding Cat

Luke nodded and they headed that way.

It was a tremendous relief to Garrett to detach from the multitudes. The air was cooler, the street quieter and it was much easier to maneuver.

How odd that it was then that the lurking threat attacked.

It happened quickly, so quickly it was almost a blur.

Something small whipped past him, snatched Catherine’s purse, and bolted.

He cried out at the same time she did, and then Luke launched after the thief, while Garrett, taking the rear, stayed on Catherine. He was a quick little bugger, that thief, but Luke had longer legs. He zeroed in on the boy carrying Catherine’s purse and scooped him into his arms.

The boy howled and kicked and wriggled but Luke tucked him under his arm like a football and carried him back to where they stood, and dumped him on the ground. He picked up Catherine’s purse and handed it to her.

She seemed to be in shock, staring at the boy. Her lips trembled.

“It’s okay, Catherine,” Garrett murmured, wishing to God he could really comfort her. “It’s just a pickpocket.”

She turned to him, eyes wide. “But,” she sputtered. “He’s just a child.”

“They usually are,” Luke said. “Most tourists are disinclined to press charges against children.” He yanked the boy up by the scruff of his neck and barked something at him in Cantonese. The boy flinched and his face paled. Tears formed in his eyes and he responded in a spate of incomprehensible Chinese.

Luke blew out a breath and shook his head. His response was harsh and brutal. The boy began to tremble. He turned his attention to Catherine and burbled in heavily accented English, “Please, Miss Pretty. Please.”

Catherine’s horror dissolved. “Oh, my,” she whispered. What woman, presented with such a face, those enormous brown eyes, could resist this plea?

Good thing he and Luke were made of sterner stuff. “We need to turn him in,” Luke said, and Garrett nodded. The officials of Hong Kong did not tolerate pickpockets because it had a severe impact on tourism. The consequences to this boy would be harsh.

“What?” Catherine squawked.

“Ma’am. He stole your purse. We need to turn him in.”

Catherine nibbled on her lip. “Can’t we just...let him go?”

“To steal from someone else?” Luke was adamant.

“Maybe he won’t.”

Ah, women and their sentiment.

“Ma’am. Boys like this make a living stealing from tourists.”

“You don’t know that.”

“They work in gangs.”

She looked around pointedly. They were alone on the street.

Luke sighed. “Ma’am. I assure you. They’re trained from a young age to—”

“This boy is young. A child!”

“Please, Miss Pretty?” And damned good at playing off female sympathies.

“Perhaps we can take him home. Talk to his parents. Explain why this is so dangerous for him.”

Garrett didn’t blame Luke for scrubbing his face. He agreed with his friend’s frustration. Catherine was well-traveled and hardly naive, but she was far too trusting.

“The boy claims he doesn’t have parents,” Luke said on a snort.