Free Bending the Rules by Susan Andersen Page B

dress over capri-length black leggings and she’d paired them with Doc Martens. Sort of Garden Party Barbie meets Urban Warrior. “Can I safely assume you dress as a boy when you go out at night for safety reasons?” she inquired gently.
    Cory gave a jerky nod and Poppy allowed the girl to break eye contact.
    She turned back to the two boys. “Then I suggest we all keep Ms. Capelli’s identity under our hats so she may continue to be safe. Is that agreeable with you, Mr. Gardo? Mr. Close?”
    “Yeah, sure,” Danny said.
    Henry opened his mouth to no doubt say something smart-ass, but snapped it shut again at the half defiant, half pleading look Cory shot him. “Whatever.” Then, as if to make up for what he clearly interpreted as a momentary weakness, he gave Poppy a slow up-and-down. “You’re hot.”
    “Yes, I know. It’s my burden to bear. So shall we get started?” She nodded at the assortment of painting supplies on the sidewalk to her right and held out her hand, palm up. “You each owe me thirty-seven fifty.”
    Danny dug through his wallet and forked over the required amount, but both Cory and Henry looked stricken, although they struggled to hide the fact. Cory said sulkily, “I’ve only got ten-fifty.”
    “And I only got twenty,” Henry admitted.
    “Then we’ll put you on the payment plan,” she said easily and accepted the money they did have, making a note of it in her little notebook. “You’ll contribute each time we meet until your debt is paid off. If you don’t have a way to make money on your own, a couple of the merchants whose buildings you defaced agreed to give you some chores, which they’ll pay you minimum wage to perform.”
    “Pretty damn generous of them if you ask me,” Jase muttered.
    She turned to face him. “The no-cursing rule extends to you and me, Detective de Sanges,” she said levelly. “I will thank you to show us the same respect we’re requiring of Misters Gardo and Close and Ms. Capelli.”
    “Yeah, Detective,” Henry said. “Show us some damn respect.”
    De Sanges’s dark brows inched toward each other for a moment, and he leveled a look on Henry until the kid shifted on his huge, laces-dangling sneakers. But he merely said to Poppy, “Yes, ma’am,” and looked beyond her to the kids once more. “My apologies,” he said flatly.
    When it became clear none of the teens was going to reply, she turned her attention back to the two with balances left on their accounts. “Do you both understand my conditions?”
    Cory gave a clipped nod.
    Henry said, “Yeah, big deal. I’ll wait until the old man climbs back in his bottle and see what the wallet yields.”
    Her heart felt bruised at the picture that comment revealed, but she knew better than to display anything that Henry could construe as pity. “Let’s get started then.”
    Jase stood back and watched as she handed out old lab coats for the kids to use to protect their clothing and got them organized. He eyed the girl in particular as she took off her oversize leather jacket and carefully folded it before setting it out of harm’s way. Calloway had the right of it: the kid was a surprise. He hadn’t been involved when they’d been busted, but everything he’d heard had been about three boys. Cory was tall for her age and happily not one of those starved-looking girls that so many of today’s young females strove to be. But the nape of her neck looked soft-as-a-baby’s vulnerable.
    My ass. He scowled. He didn’t know where the hell that had come from, but he wasn’t cutting her any slack just because she was a girl. Do the crime, you do the time; that was his motto. Her freaking nape most likely wasn’t on display anyway when she was in the dark, dressed like a boy, roaming the city streets.
    But a jittery feeling attacked the pit of his stomach on the heels of that visual…and just served to make him tenser still. Pulling his attention away from the girl, he focused it on the author