Kennedy stomped over and grabbed Wyatt’s phone. For an instant, Wyatt thought his brother truly had lost his good sense, but instead Kennedy put the phone to his ear. “The guy’s name is Rob Sorensen. I know he did it, because he’s got her blood on his hands and the fly of his jeans. Three other boys were in on it. Get here as fast as you can, because the jerk has a knife.”

Just then Rob Sorensen came tearing across the clearing. Wyatt saw that he was yelling something, but he couldn’t make out the words. Wyatt stepped into the kid’s path. If the boy jumped Kennedy, Kennedy would fight back, and at all costs, Wyatt hoped to keep his brother out of trouble. Kennedy had a bright future ahead of him, and Wyatt didn’t want his plans to be ruined over a fight with a minor.

The impact of the youth’s body sent Wyatt flying backward, and the kid landed on top of him. Wyatt rolled out from under him and sprang to his feet. “Stay out of it, Kennedy,” he commanded. “Stand back and let me handle this.”

Sorensen staggered erect and swung wildly at Wyatt with the open blade of a pocketknife. Wyatt swung up his arm to block the thrust and managed to knock the weapon out of the boy’s hand. From that moment forward, all Wyatt did was block punches. He would do everything he could to avoid hitting the kid. A grown man could get in serious Dutch for assaulting a minor. Kennedy tried to come in on the scuffle once, but Wyatt threw out his arm and knocked him backward.

“I said stay out of it.” Wyatt turned to face off with the boy again. “I may go to jail, Kennedy, but I’ll still have a job when I get out. You might ruin your whole life.”

Wyatt’s arms were starting to ache from blocking the youth’s wild swings, but he just kept circling and blocking until the three boys huddled together by the car ran over and tackled their friend. One of them, a teen with whitish-blond hair, extricated himself from the dogpile and turned to face Wyatt.

“We didn’t do it!” he cried. “We thought he was just going to give her a scare. You know? And then he went all crazy, and we didn’t know what to do! We kept telling him to stop, but he wouldn’t! When she kicked him on the shin with her roller skate, he went totally berserk. Carried her to the dumpster. Threw her on the ground. That’s when her arm got broken. And then”—the kid’s shoulders started to jerk—“he ra-aped h-her. R-right in fr-front of us. There was s-so much n-noise out front that nobody h-heard her scr-screaming. I swear, we n-never t-touched her.”

Wyatt managed to read the kid’s lips and understood most of what he’d said. “The cops are on their way. You need to tell them your story.”

The kid’s face twisted and tears spilled down his cheeks. “I don’t w-want to g-go to j-jail. I had n-nothing to d-do with it!”