Bontemps said, “Jerad Benderhurst—a fifteen-year-old white male. Last I heard, he was living with an aunt in Oklahoma. Jamal Williams—a sixteen-year-old African-American male—picked up not only for vandalism, but also petty theft and drug possession. I think he moved back east.”

“That’s not promising. Anyone else?”

“Carlos Aguillar. I think he’s fourteen, and I think he’s still at Buck’s correction center. Those are the ones I remember for vandalism. If you check with Sherri and Ridel, they might have others.” A pause. “Then again, Lieutenant, you might want to consider the bigger picture when it comes to tagging.”

Decker knew exactly to whom she was referring—a specific group of white, middle-to-upper-class males who were not only testosterone laden, but also terribly bored with life. Recently, after having been caught, the kids had secured their daddies’ highly paid lawyers before they had even been booked. The entire bunch had gotten off, the tagging expunged from the records, and in record time. Most of the kids were enrolled in private schools. For them, even drugs and sex had become too commonplace. Crime was the last vestige of rebellion.

“There was a group of them last year,” Wanda said. “Around twenty of them dressing like homies and trying to act very baaaad. They defaced a lot of property. If I thought about it, I could remember some names.”

“You could also have your ass sued for giving me the names,” Decker said. “As far as the records are concerned, they don’t exist. But I know who you mean.” A glance at the wrist told him it was eleven-twenty. “How’s it going over there?”

“Photographers are almost done. So are the techs. Your wife is waiting with a crew of people—all of them armed with soapy water pails, cleaning solutions, rags, and mops. They are ready to start scrubbing, and they are angry. If the police don’t hurry up, someone’s gonna get impaled on a broomstick.”

“That sounds like Rina’s doing,” Decker stated.

“You want to talk to her? She’s hanging over my shoulder.”

“I am not hanging,” Rina said, off side. “I am waiting.”

Wanda handed her the phone. Rina said, “Detective Bontemps has offered to spend her lunch hour helping us clean.”

“Is that a pointed comment?”

“Well, you might want to take a cue.”

Decker smiled. “I’ll be there as soon as I get off work. I will paint and clean the entire night if necessary. How’s that?”

“Acceptable, although by the time you get here, it may not be necessary.”

“I hear you have quite a gang.”