“I still think you should investigate whether someone older sent him.”
Vega shook her head.
“We have verified the fundraiser.”
“What if somebody is using the fundraiser as cover?”
“Cover for what?”
Lorraine stopped.
Vega continued.
“No one has reported a burglary.”
“No attempted entry.”
“No theft.”
“No threat.”
“No damaged property.”
She looked toward Isaiah.
“We have a seven-year-old passing out legitimate school flyers.”
That should have ended everything.
Instead, Hargrove found himself hesitating because Lorraine still appeared frightened.
Years later, he would identify that exact moment as the mistake.
He was no longer evaluating Isaiah.
He was managing Lorraine’s fear.
And without realizing it, he was making Isaiah responsible for calming fear he had done nothing to create.
Five minutes later, a gray sedan pulled onto Willow Crest.
A tall Black man in a dark blazer stepped out.
Isaiah recognized him.
“Uncle Terrence!”
Terrence Reed was his mother’s older brother and a well-known criminal-defense attorney in Elmwood County. Camille had been at City Hall when Isaiah called and immediately contacted Terrence because he happened to be much closer. He walked toward Isaiah first, crouched, and checked him quickly.
“You okay?”
“Yes.”
“Nobody searched you?”
“No.”
“Touch you?”
“No.”
Terrence stood.
Then he looked toward the officers.
“Can somebody explain why three officers are questioning my seven-year-old nephew?”
Hargrove straightened.
“We received a suspicious-person call.”
“A suspicious seven-year-old?”
“The caller believed he might be checking residences.”
Terrence looked toward Isaiah’s bright robotics flyer.
“With his elementary-school clipboard.”
Lorraine stepped forward.
“You weren’t here.”
Terrence turned.
“And you are?”
“I made the call.”
“Why?”
“He was wandering around.”
“He’s seven.”
“That doesn’t mean—”
Terrence lifted one hand.
“No.”
His voice stayed calm.
“Let’s slow down.”
He pointed toward Isaiah.
“Did you see him enter a house?”
“No.”
“Take property?”
“No.”
“Threaten anybody?”
“No.”
“Damage anything?”
“No.”
“Did you ask him what he was doing?”
Lorraine’s jaw tightened.
“No.”
“Did you read the flyer before calling?”
“No.”
“Speak to one neighbor?”
“No.”
Terrence nodded.
“That’s five noes.”
Lorraine looked angry.
“You lawyers twist everything.”
“I have not interpreted anything.”
“I asked questions.”
Officer Vega looked toward Terrence with the expression of someone who understood exactly why he was good in court.
Then another vehicle turned onto Willow Crest.