The Chalk Girl Read Online Free PDF Page B

exit for 77th Street, Mallory pressed the gas pedal to the floor and jumped the curb to aim the cart at two boys with skateboards in hand. They wore kneepads and wrist guards and helmets, all the cushions that parents could provide to keep their young alive in New York City. True, these youngsters were teenagers, but
someone
loved them. When the cart braked to a sudden stop, the front wheels were inches from their kneecaps – and the boys laughed. No shock, no awe, for this was a
toy
car. And then the fun was over. They had locked eyes with Mallory.
    Oh,
shit
.
    Words were unnecessary. She only nodded to say,
Yes, I’m a cop. Yes, I carry a gun
–
a big one
. She tilted her head to one side and smiled, silently asking if they might have a bit of weed in their pockets that would interest her.
    Teenagers were
so
easy.
    Riker held up his badge and waved them over to his side of the cart. He reached into his pocket for the photograph of Mrs Ortega’s fairy figurine. ‘Okay, guys, this is how it works. One smartass remark and my partner shoots you. We’re hunting for a lost kid.The girl looks something like this.’ He showed them the photo and read one boy’s mind when he saw the smirk. ‘Forget you saw the
wings
.’ He nodded toward Mallory. ‘She
will
hurt you.’
    ‘Yeah, we saw the kid,’ said the taller boy. ‘Well, you’re headed in the right direction.’ He pointed back the way he had come with his friend. ‘Take the first path on the right. She was running east.’
    ‘She went into the Ramble?’ Riker shaded his eyes to look toward that area of dense woods, once notorious as a haven for addicts and muggers with knives and guns, and for bob-and-drop rapists with rocks. In more recent times, the wildwood had been invaded by bird-watchers, joggers and grandmothers. ‘How long ago?’
    ‘Maybe an hour – half an hour.’
    ‘Talk to me.’ Mallory zeroed in on the other boy’s guilty face. ‘What else happened?’
    This teenager looked down at the grass and then up to the sky. ‘She asked me for a hug.’
    ‘But she was dirty.’ Mallory stepped out of the cart. ‘Probably a homeless kid.’ Her voice was a monotone. ‘You thought you might catch something – bedbugs or lice.’ She circled around the boy, snatched his skateboard and tossed it under the wheels of the cart. And still, he would not look at her. ‘That little girl had blood on her T-shirt, and she was scared, wasn’t she? But you had plans for the day, places to go – no time to call the cops.’ Mallory held up her open hand and showed the boy his own pricey cell phone. He stared at it in disbelief as he patted the empty back pocket of his jeans.
    ‘You think I can hit the water from here?’ She glanced at the long finger of lake water bordered with an orange construction fence, and she hefted his phone as if weighing it. ‘Talk to me.’
    The teenager turned his worried eyes to Riker, who only shrugged to say
I warned you about her
.
    It was the other boy who spoke first, maybe in fear for his owncell phone. ‘The girl was a little strange . . . I thought she was gonna cry when—’
    ‘When your friend blew her off?’ With only the prompt of Mallory folding her arms, both of them were talking at once, and now they remembered – suddenly and conveniently – that Coco had run toward another park visitor.
    ‘We figured
he’d
call the cops.’
    ‘Yeah,’ said Riker, ‘
sure
you did.’
Pissant liar
.
    The teenager gave him a snarky so-what smile –
no
respect.
    Smug lies to cops should have consequences, but rather than shake the little bastard until his perfect teeth came loose, Riker turned away and climbed into the cart. Behind him, he heard a splash followed by the boy’s ‘Oh, shit! My
phone
!’ Then Mallory was back in the driver’s seat, and the cart lurched forward with the satisfying crunch of a skateboard under one wheel.
    The detectives traveled down a narrow road and into the woods at the reckless top