Free Death of a Garage Sale Newbie by Sharon Dunn

police report in a manila folder.
    “What did he steal?”
    Vicher glanced at the report. “Little miniature tool kit. Some wheels. Under fifty bucks’ worth, so it’s a misdemeanor.”
    “Wheels?” What on earth was he going to do with stuff like that?
    “Little ones.” He made a circle with his fingers. His fair features suggested Scandinavian heritage. “You want me to bring him out?”
    Tammy and her mom nodded in unison. Vicher pressed a button and spoke into a microphone. “Trevor Welstad’s mother is here.”
    Her eyes went to the video monitors. An officer appeared at the corner of the screen ambling past the first two cells. He leaned into the third cell, which Tammy noticed had not been locked. Trevor had opted to meet her at the jail, rather than at the store where he’d been caught, probably because it was too embarrassing.
    Watching her kid be escorted by a police officer was like pouring salt in a gash. She looked away from the monitors. She needed to focus on something else…anything but this. “You remember about a week ago? The night the Parker woman was brought in?”
    Vicher looked up from his paperwork and blinked several times. He shook his head. Apparently, the case hadn’t made an impression on him like it had on her.
    Tammy touched her back. “Arrow.”
    “Oh yeah, yeah.”
    She had hoped Vicher would give up the information without her having to pry. He struck her as a consummate people pleaser, desperate to get off desk work and patrol.
    Tammy stared at the video screen. The other officer led a hunched-over Trevor up the hallway. She averted her eyes from the monitor and kept her tone casual. “You told Deaver to rush the postmortem. No need for a full autopsy?”
    “Captain asked me to. It was obviously an accident.” Vicher squared his shoulders. “Didn’t you think?” He tapped a pen on the counter.
    Tammy nodded. “Captain said you weren’t able to trace the arrow back to a specific user—too generic.”
    Vicher stopped tapping his pen. His face paled. “The captain said that?”
    “That’s what he told me.”
    Vicher touched the side of his nose and then patted his buzz cut.
    Nervous little Nellie, aren’t you?
    “The captain must have meant a different officer.”
    Tammy leaned a little closer to him. “I’m pretty sure he said you.” Vicher was obviously not the mastermind behind the coverup. In an effort to please Stenengarter, the young officer had been turned into a patsy.
    The security panel buzzed. “Looks like your son is here.” The tone of triumph in Vicher’s voice was a little over the top. He hit a button. The click of metal releasing from metal echoed in the empty admin room. The large steel door opened, and a red-eyed Trevor escorted by an older officer stepped into the room.
    Sudden fatigue seeped into Tammy’s body. She was tired of the constant psychological pummeling raising a teenager required. She gazed at her boy. He wasn’t a big kid. The oversized T-shirt and pants he wore made him look even smaller. His hair was the same shade of brown as her own, but wavy, like his dad’s. He stared at the floor.
    “Trevor, where are your glasses?” Mom took a step toward her grandson.
    The fifteen-year-old looked everywhere but at his mother. “I lost them, Grandma.”
    Tammy lifted her arms and then let them fall at her side. She really wanted to hug her son. Even though she was parenting by the seat of her pants, instinct told her this had to be a tough love moment. “You’ll have to earn the money to pay for them and for any court costs.” She attempted to use the same emotionless tone she adopted when she stopped speeding motorists, but her voice cracked.
    Mom gave her a sidelong glance but said nothing. If her mom thought she was making a poor parenting choice, she would tell her later in private. Right now, they were a united front in the battle to push Trevor into adulthood.
    Tammy’s fist hit the counter. Vicher flinched. “Why,