“I could probably get his part pled down to malicious mischief, which will require some explaining since it’s a hate crime. But if it turns out he’s jiving me, all bets are off.”

“What is malicious mischief?” Jill asked. “What does it mean?”

“It means it’s a misdemeanor,” Melrose stated flatly. “I’m still not sure this is the best way.”

“Why the change of heart?” Decker asked Ernesto.

“I have my reasons,” the teen answered. “If you want to know about them, give me a guarantee.”

“I’ll do the best I can,” Decker said.

“Not good enough,” Ernesto stated.

Decker stood and took out the cuffs. “Fair enough. You’re under arrest—”

“Wait a damn minute!” Carter broke in. “Ernesto, once this man arrests you, you can’t be unarrested! Are you aware of that?”

Ernesto was quiet.

“It won’t hold up, Carter,” Melrose assured him. “He doesn’t have any rights here.”

“Can you guarantee that?”

No one spoke.

“This is the situation, Ernesto,” Decker said. “You talk, I listen. If I like what I hear, I go to bat for you. If I don’t, you’re no worse off. I’ll still arrest you. But what you told me will be inadmissible because you spoke without a lawyer.”

“No, no, no!” Melrose broke in. “Who said anything about his talking without representation?”

“Counselor, if you’re there, then it’s official. I have to read him his rights. Then, as we all know, I can use his statements in a trial. If you’re not there, I can’t use anything.”

“So what happens if you like what you hear?” Carter wanted to know.

“He writes it all down in a witnessed confession statement. We seal it. Then I take it to the D.A. and probably he’ll plead him down to a simple wrist slap—”

“Probably?”

“Yes, probably. I can’t say for sure. This is the best I can do—”

“I’ll take it,” Ernesto said.

“Ernesto, you’re seventeen. You don’t have the final word. Do you understand that?”

“And you’re fired, Mr. Melrose. Do you understand that?”

“Ernie, what in the world is wrong with you?” Jill screamed. “Apologize!”

“This is precisely why I can’t trust him without representation,” Melrose said.

Ernesto tightened his fists. “This is my life here, Mr. Melrose. Not yours, not my mom’s, not Dad’s…my life.” He looked at Decker. “I can speak for myself.”

Melrose said, “Carter, you can’t let him do this!”

“Yes, he can,” Ernesto said. “My parents raised me with independence. Now they’re going to put their money where their mouths are and trust me to do the right thing!”

And what could the Goldings say to that? Decker couldn’t have scripted it better. He broke in. “Where do you want to talk, Mr. Golding?” A pause. “Is there a vacant classroom somewhere?”