Victoria rolled her eyes. This was why suspects needed lawyers to speak for them.

“See?” Joey said, pointing at the Foster boys. “They just admitted that they was tryin’ to steal. They gotta be punished for that. If there was still stuff in there, they’da taken it. That’s the same as actually looting.”

Victoria pointed to George. “And your friend in the striped shirt just tried to murder these two boys. Shall we punish him for the crime he almost committed, but didn’t?” She let the question hang in the air. “What about all of you?” She spread her arms to indicate the gathering crowd. “You were about to let George kill them. This nasty little girl assaulted them. Do you really think this is the best time to talk about criminal intent for crimes that didn’t happen?”

The silence told her that she’d made her point. At the very least, she’d shamed them into silence. “Okay, then. This is over. Kyle and Caine, clean up your act.”

“What about my store?” Joey said. “And George’s station?”

“What’s gone is gone. We need to pivot to keeping what you have.”

“Hey, Major!” someone called from the crowd. “What the hell happened last night?”

Victoria didn’t yield the floor. “The world went to war last night,” she said. “Hey, is there a place where we can all sit down? My family and I have been walking for hours.”

“Sure,” said the cranky old lady. “Come to my place.” She pointed to a squatty building with darkened neon soda and beer signs. The placard over the door read, MAGGIE’S PLACE.

“Are you Maggie?”

“Ever since the day I was born.” Maggie led the way down the little sidewalk and up the single step into a darkened space that smelled of old grease and spilled beer.

Victoria paused to let her boys enter before her, and then fell in behind. Maggie pointed to the front table with an open palm. “Since you’re the one with the news, you get the head table,” she said. After Victoria was seated, Maggie leaned in close and whispered, “I’m sorry about that ugliness out there. We’re usually better people than that.”

Most of the crowd from outside streamed into Maggie’s Place and took seats in the dark. Even the Foster brothers came in, a decision that Victoria likely would not have made. She noted that McCrea and Copley continued to maintain their protector roles, taking positions near the front and back doors.

“Here’s what we know about last night,” Victoria began. It took no longer than ten minutes to relay the known details. When she was done, everyone looked appropriately horrified.

“So, did we win or did we lose?” someone asked.

“Does it matter?” someone else said.