Three young men occupied the chairs: a husky Latino kid with his arm in a sling wearing a South El Monte High letterman's jacket, a smallish but muscular guy, slightly older, in cutoffs and a Zuma Jay T-shirt, and a beanpole with a humongous Adam's apple, awkward mannerisms, and fuzzy red hair protruding from a beige Huntington Gardens cap.

I bypassed the chief and walked up to Cutoff. "You're Garret Kenten?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good to meet you."

"Same here."

"Impressive and entertaining, Doctor," said the chief. "One day you can take the show to Vegas."

Charlie removed his cap. "Da-ad."

"Sorry, son." Different voice. Subdued, embarrassed, unsure. I'd heard it from countless parents of adolescents.

"Forgive me, Dr. Delaware. As you can imagine, it's been a bit challenging around here."

"Shouldn't be, Dad," said Charlie. "Seeing as we did the allegedly right thing."

Garret Kenten high-fived him.

Martin Mendoza smiled.

I shook his left hand, continued to Charlie.

The chief said, "Please sit down, Dr. Delaware. No sense drawing this out. Garret and Charlie have been hiding Martin Mendoza since shortly after Elise Freeman's murder. Technically, when Marty was a fugitive, that was illegal. But given how things have unfolded, I'm sure you recognize the need for discretion."

"Of course," I said. To the trio: "Good work, guys."

"No big deal," said Garret Kenten.

Marty Mendoza said, "To me it was, dude."

"The fugitive," said Garret. "We should've filmed it."

Charlie hadn't taken his eyes off me. "It was a clear matter of right and wrong, unsullied by those inane moral dilemmas they keep tossing at us so they can feel good about themselves. As if theoretical situations are relevant."

Garret Kenten said, "What matters to me is my grandfather doesn't get hassled." Talking to me but looking sidelong at the chief.

The chief said, "That'll be no problem."

"I know you can't stand him, sir, but you need to forget about that."

"Your grandfather and I--we've had our differences. He's obviously a good man but there are... differences."

"I don't care about that, sir. I just don't want you to hassle him."

"No problem."

Charlie said, "No reason for there to be, Dad."

His father glared. Pulled at his mustache. "Not a single hair on your grampa's head will be touched."

Garret grinned. "Good, he doesn't have too many left."

Marty laughed. Charlie remained serious.

"We had to do it," he said. "We don't deserve credit because there was no other logical choice. They made explicit threats against him."

The chief said, "Son, there's no need to get into--"

"They hated Marty because they're insubstantial posers and his abilities threatened them. It was a matter of life and death."

Marty said, "Maybe not that bad. At least I got to learn surfing."

Garret said, "You learned to flop on your ass."

I said, "So you stayed in Malibu."