Theo outstretched his hands as Rick brandished a pair of handcuffs from his jeans. In one motion, Rick pulled Theo to a stand, clasped on the cuffs, a metallic wheeze gasping out as the restraints closed around Theo’s wrists. Theo winced in response, his face collapsing into itself like an alarmed armadillo. Avoiding his pliant eyes, Tilly turned away, waving to Rick from over her shoulder and heading back outside. She paused as she opened the door to the SUV and watched Rick guide Theo in. She’d never arrested a teenager before.

After Rick closed the door, she tugged on his shirt and led him away from the vehicle. They stood on dry, brittle grass, its blades sharp, eager to prick. The sun was behind her, but Tilly still flicked down her shades before speaking to Rick.

“We both know he didn’t do it alone,” Tilly declared.

“Obviously.”

“Then why are we taking him in?”

“Terrorism.”

“Terrorism?”

“We solved it.”

“We solved it?”

“Closed case.”

“Closed case?”

“Are you just going to repeat everything I say?”

“Are you just going to act like this case isn’t horseshit?”

“The case is solid. We tie him to Black Lives Matter, say he was radicalized online by WikiLeaks, say he’s an identity extremist and that he loves Dead Prez, The Roots, Chief Keef, bang bang, done deal. Promotions, bigger offices, better cases. We bring this twerp in, and I guarantee we’ll be collecting shitty Netflix documentary checks for life. Never bunt an underhand pitch, Tilly.”

Tilly guffawed, stepping back to gulp down the hot air that was erupting from her throat. Rick was a careerist. Fucking Rick. Rick the Brick, immovable yet aerodynamic, chronic overworker, 93 percent closure rate no matter how minor or major the case, hoarder of vacation days, infrequent bather, online grocery shopper because he didn’t have time to shop in person. Tilly shook her head hard in disbelief. Was this why he’d whiffed when Eric Sims had come by the office? Or worse, had he arranged for Sims to come by the office?

“Cutting corners isn’t closing cases,” she told him, her finger jabbing his shoulder.

“This case wasn’t even meant to be closed. Houndum gave this to us on a broken wing and a whore’s prayer.”