Free Body Movers by Stephanie Bond

five
    thousand dol ars in reparations, one hundred hours of
    community service, which wil include col aboration with
    the city on computer security, and one year of probation.”
    He banged a gavel. “Next case.”
    The sigh of relief she’d been saving remained pent-up in
    Carlotta’s chest at the realization that yet more debt had
    just been heaped onto their already considerable pile. Add
    to that her credit card balances and the miscel aneous bil s
    that were late, and the fact that tomorrow a big, hairy guy
    was coming by to col ect a thousand dol ars they didn’t
    have, and she could barely push herself to her feet and
    toward the door. She just wanted things to be…good.
    She’d given up on easy years ago, but good would be nice.
    To her chagrin, Detective Terry was on her heels. “Ms.
    Wren, I need to talk to you.”
    She turned and sighed. “What do you want, Detective—to
    tel me more about your manly conquests?”
    A whisper of a smile crossed his mouth before his eyes
    turned serious. “Er, no. When was the last time you heard
    from your parents?”
    She frowned. “I don’t remember—oh, we received a
    postcard maybe two years ago.”
    “From where?”
    “Texas, maybe. I don’t recall.”
    “Where is the postcard?”
    “I threw it away.”
    His eyebrows went up. “One of the few pieces of
    communication that you’ve had from your fugitive
    parents, and you threw it away? That’s destroying
    evidence.”
    Anger surged in her blood. “So arrest me, Detective.”
    His mouth flattened into a thin line. “Ms. Wren, I think you
    and your brother both are keeping secrets. I think you
    might know where your parents are.”
    “Wel , you’re wrong.”
    “I can have your cel -phone records seized. And your mail.”
    For a second, she wondered if that might buy her time to
    pay her bil s, but then she fisted her hands at her sides.
    “You’d be wasting your time. Besides, I figured you were
    too busy giving McGruff the Crime Dog speeches to
    salesclerks to be digging around in an old case that not
    even the D.A. cares about anymore.”
    “Wrong, Ms. Wren.”
    She turned to see Kelvin Lucas standing there, slump-
    shouldered, his hands in his pants pockets. “I do care.
    Funny thing, your brother’s arrest got me all interested in
    your fugitive daddy all over again. I’ve reassigned the case
    to Detective Terry here because he always gets his man,
    don’t you, Detective?”
    A muscle worked in the detective’s jaw. “Yes, sir.”
    Lucas smiled, but his eyes remained hard and cold. “So just
    in case this trouble that your delinquent brother’s gotten
    himself into happens to smoke out your runaway parents,
    Detective Terry wil be watching. And if I hear that your
    brother does anything to violate his probation, I’l nail his
    scrawny ass to the wall.”
    The D.A. walked away, his hard-sole shoes clicking against
    the floor. Carlotta scowled at the detective and he scowled
    back. “I know my rights,” she said with more confidence
    than she felt, pul ing herself up to her ful height, which,
    even in heels, brought her only up to the man’s chin. “Stay
    away from me and my brother or I’l …I’l …”
    “You’l what?” he asked dryly.
    “I’ll sic your ex-lover Liz on you.” She smirked—ten points
    for her.
    But he barked out a laugh. “Lady, you’re way more scary
    than Liz, and that’s saying a lot.”
    She narrowed her eyes. “I don’t like the idea of you
    watching me.”
    “You’l get used to it.” He gave her a little salute and
    walked away.
    7
    Wesley swung his legs over the edge of his bed, put on his
    glasses and stared in the predawn light at the empty wall
    unit where a dozen monitors, hard drives, routers,
    keyboards, joysticks and printers had once sat, all
    interconnected. Damn, the police had cleaned him out.
    They’d even taken his software cabinet, games and
    landline phones.
    He smiled to himself. It was a good thing that he kept all
    his good