“We’ll handle the investigation, Mac.”

“I think I saw that kid in my store last week.”

Vorman looked at Hamilton. “Are you sure about this, Mac?”

“I can’t prove it, you know? A lot of kids come and go, but that one looks familiar.”

“He told us he’s never been in your store.”

“What do you expect him to say? We know he’s a thief, don’t we? If he’ll break in and steal, then I’m sure he’ll lie, too. I want that kid busted, okay? I lose a ton of money every year to shoplifters and thieves, and I prosecute everyone I catch.”

“Got it, Mac. We’ll wrap up the investigation and stop by the store when we’re finished. Thanks for your cooperation.”

“No problem. Just find the rest of my stuff, okay?”

“We’ll do that.”

Big Mac slammed the door to Mrs. Gladwell’s office, and as he stomped past Miss Gloria’s desk, he saw Theo hiding near the watercooler. “Hey you, kid, where’s the rest of the stuff you stole from my store?” he demanded. At that moment, there was a sixth-grade teacher chatting quietly with Mrs. Gladwell not far away, and there was a seventh-grade student with a fever lying on a small sofa. Everyone looked at Big Mac, then at Theo, who couldn’t speak for a second or two.

“I want my stuff, okay?” Big Mac said, even louder, and took a step toward Theo.

“I don’t have it,” Theo managed to say.

“If you don’t mind,” Mrs. Gladwell said to Big Mac. The door opened and Detective Vorman stepped out. He pointed a finger at Big Mac and said, “That’s enough. We’ll handle things here. You can go now.” Big Mac left without another word.

The bell was ringing to start third period. The sixth-grade teacher was staring at Theo as if he were a murderer. Mark Somebody, the student with the fever, was sitting up, staring at Theo. Miss Gloria’s eyebrows were arched, and her forehead was creased with thick wrinkles, a very guilty look. Theo wanted to shout that he was not a thief, had not stolen anything belonging to Big Mac, in fact had never stolen anything in his life, but for a few long seconds he just stood there in disbelief.

He had never before been accused of a crime.

Detective Vorman said, “Could you please come in?” Theo followed Mrs. Gladwell back into her office, where she sat in her large swivel chair behind her desk. Theo stood beside her; the two of them versus the two detectives.

Vorman said, “These were identified by the owner. Registration numbers match up all nice and neat. Now that we have recovered some of the stolen property, we need to thoroughly examine Mr. Boone’s locker. Check it carefully for fingerprints. Inventory its contents. That sort of thing.”

Hamilton chimed in, “And we’ll need to talk to the kids who have lockers near this one. Maybe they saw something or someone suspicious, you know, just routine stuff. The sooner we can do this the better. Kids have short memories, you know.”

Mrs. Gladwell knew that thirteen-year-olds have far better memories than adults, but she would not argue. She said, “Okay, but I’m certain you can wait until after three thirty this afternoon when classes are over. Why disrupt school during the day?”

Theo was horrified at the idea of the two detectives lining up his friends for questioning. Word would soon spread that Theo was under suspicion, that the cops were hot on his trail. Theo needed help. Mrs. Gladwell was doing her best to protect him, but Theo needed more firepower.

The door burst open and Ike stormed in. “What’s going on here!?” he demanded. “Theo, are you okay?”

“Not really,” Theo said.

Vorman stood and said, “I’m Detective Vorman, Strattenburg P.D. and this is my partner, Detective Hamilton. Who, may I ask, are you?” The introductions were stiff; none of the three men made any effort to shake hands.

“Ike Boone, formerly of Boone & Boone, attorneys, and Theo is my nephew.”

“And I’m Mrs. Gladwell, the principal. Welcome to my office.”

Ike nodded slightly and said, “A pleasure. I think we’ve met before. Now what’s going on?”

“Are you a lawyer?” Vorman asked.

Ike replied, “Former lawyer. Right now I’m Theo’s uncle, adviser, consultant, guardian, and anything else I need to be. If you want lawyers, just give me an hour or so and I’ll have them lined up.” Ike was wearing his usual attire: faded jeans, sandals with no socks, an ancient Red Stripe Beer T-shirt under a ragged brown-plaid sports coat, and his long, gray hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail. He was highly agitated and looking for a fight, and Theo realized at that moment that he could have no better protector.

Detective Hamilton read the situation perfectly and took over. In a calm voice he said, “Fine, Mr. Boone. A computer store on Main Street was broken into last night. This morning we received an anonymous tip that some of the loot could be found in the locker of one Theodore Boone, here at the school. Theo consented to a search of his locker, and we found these three Linx 0-4 Tablets, valued at about four hundred dollars each. The owner of the store has checked the serial numbers and identified his goods.”

“Perfect!” Ike said loudly. “Then we know exactly who robbed the store. The punk who gave you the anonymous tip. Why aren’t you chasing him down instead of harassing Theo?”

“No harassment, Mr. Boone,” Hamilton said. “We are merely conducting an investigation, part of which is an effort to track down the anonymous caller. We’re trying to cover everything right now, okay?”

Ike took a breath and looked at his nephew. “Are you okay, Theo?”

“I guess,” he replied, but he was not. Two slashed bike tires, a rock through his window with broken glass all over him and his dog, the first invasion into his locker and the stolen cap, and now this. Someone was tormenting him, and doing a fine job of it.

Mrs. Gladwell said, “Well if you want my opinion, and we are in my office so I’ll just go ahead and give it anyway, the police have every right to pursue an investigation, as long as it does not disrupt my school. It’s also my opinion that Theodore Boone didn’t steal anything.”

The three men nodded. Theo agreed completely but didn’t move a muscle.

“What’s next?” Ike snarled at the detectives.

Detective Hamilton replied, “Well, we would like Theo to come down to the police station so we can take a formal statement from him. Just a routine matter. Then we’d like to talk to some of the other students.”

Theo had watched enough television to know that a trip downtown usually meant handcuffs and a ride in the back of the patrol car, and for a split second he was amused by the idea. He had never been handcuffed before, nor had he seen the backseat of a police car, and the entire adventure would be fun to talk about later, long after he was cleared. But any amusement soon faded when he realized that the gossip would race through the school and the town and soon the whole world would know that Theo was the prime suspect.

“School’s out at three thirty, right?” Ike asked Mrs. Gladwell.

“That’s correct.”

“Good. I’ll have Theo at the police station at four o’clock this afternoon, if that suits you. I’m sure his parents will be with him.”

The detectives exchanged glances, and it was obvious neither wanted to argue with Ike about this. “When can we have a chat with the other students?” Vorman asked.

“Well, I suppose at three thirty,” Mrs. Gladwell said.

“Whose lockers are next to yours, Theo?” Hamilton asked.

“Woody, Chase, Joey, Ricardo, most of the guys in my homeroom,” Theo replied. “Darren is directly below me.”

Vorman looked at Hamilton and said, “We’ll need to check with the lab and see if they can dust the area for fingerprints.”

“Right,” Hamilton replied. “And we’ll need to print you, too, Theo. We can do it this afternoon when you come in.”

“You want my fingerprints?” Theo asked.