“You stole our daughter’s purse,” I said.

She frowned. “So?”

Before I could say anything else, Anchor put a hand on her shoulder and leaned down to whisper in her ear. The girl’s face went white and she looked to be on the verge of tears when he was done whispering. She was shaking.

“I mean,” she stammered, her eyes darting between Anchor and myself. “I mean, I’m sorry.”

“Tell me exactly what happened,” I said. “With her.”

She was trying to catch her breath. Whatever Anchor said to her had terrified her. He stood there, smiling at her.

“Mikey picked her right away,” she said. “I followed her in. She went to the back stall, the one for wheelchairs. No one else was in there. I just reached over, grabbed it and left.”

“She say anything?”

“No.”

I glanced at Lauren. She was staring at the girl, who was still watching Anchor.

“Then what?” I asked. “You take off with the stuff? See what you scored?”

“We do two or three,” she said. “Cover the cost of our tickets. She was our last. So yeah. We bailed.”

“Where’s the purse?”

Kitting opened the front passenger door and retrieved the purse. He handed it to Anchor who handed it to me.

It was strange holding something that belonged to Elizabeth. It was a large cloth bag with a single strap, faded purple, like she’d had it for a long time. I couldn’t bring myself to look into it, as if her face might be in there, peering back at me.

I handed it to Lauren.

She held it gingerly, as if it were fragile, and opened it up, rummaging around. She pulled out a hot pink leather wallet. She unsnapped the clasp and I saw her swallow hard. “It’s hers. Elizabeth’s.”

I didn’t say anything.

Lauren searched through the wallet. “There should be cash in here.”

Anchor looked at the girl.

“Mikey has it,” she said quickly. “He’s in charge of the money. The whole thing, really.”

“Anything else for her?” Anchor asked me.

I shook my head.

Anchor opened the passenger door. “Get in, please.” He waited for her to climb over Mikey. “Your turn, friend. Step out of the vehicle, please.”

Mikey slid out of his seat, his hands stuffed in the front pocket of the hoodie. He had close cropped black hair and a small diamond stud in his left earlobe. He was slightly taller than Anchor, with a heavy build, but he somehow seemed small standing next to him.

Kitting edged a little closer behind him.

“Your friend has explained your game,” Anchor said. “But we’d like to hear your version.”

Mikey’s right eye looked like it had a golf ball underneath it, the lid red and completely closed over the ball. But his left eye looked angry.

“If she told you, why I gotta tell you?” he said, glancing at Anchor.

“Because I asked. And take your hands out of your sweatshirt.”

Mikey sighed, but took his hands out. “Game is, we look for tourists and rip a bag when they’re in the can. If it’s a chick, Jessica follows them in. If it’s a dude, I follow them in. Then the other person waits for the chick or dude to come out of the can, runs interference if they got to, makes sure they don’t follow the one that did the rip, just to make sure it’s cool.” He shrugged. “That’s it.”

Anchor looked at me.

“So after Jessica took my daughter’s purse, you waited for her to come out?” I asked.

He nodded.

“What did she do?” I asked. “Where did she go?”

“I don’t know, dude.”

Kitting cleared his throat and edged closer to Mikey.

Mikey’s lips twisted for a moment, then he shrugged again, full of arrogance and disinterest. “Yo, she was like all of them. A little freaked out, but not sure what to do. She was crying. Looking around. Some go looking for a cop or a rent-a-cop. She didn’t.”

Anger percolated in my gut. His ambivalence toward her was maddening. I knew he didn’t know the full story, but he was the kind of asshole who wouldn’t have cared, anyway. He was just looking for the quick score and didn’t care what the result was.

“Where’d she go then?” I asked.

“Shit, I don’t know, dude,” he said, rolling his one good eye. “I just had to make sure Jess got clear. I didn’t babysit the bitch.”

My right fist struck his left eye flush, my knuckles cracking against his eye socket. He stumbled backward and fell against the car, then down to the curb.

Lauren touched my arm and Kitting dropped the shades from his head to his eyes, but no one else moved.

“Get up,” Anchor said.

Mikey lolled around for a moment, caught between the car and the curb. He pushed himself to his knees and got up slowly. The good eye, the one that I’d hit, was now swelling and there was another cut on the bridge of his nose, a slow trickle of blood dancing out of it.

“I believe a question was asked. Where did Mr. Tyler’s daughter go after she exited the restroom?” Anchor asked, staring at Mikey.

The arrogance was gone from Mikey, his shoulders slumped, his posture sagging, his bottom lip quivering. He wasn’t nearly as tough as he wanted to be.

“She stood outside the bathroom for a minute,” he said quietly. “Then she walked toward security. Then she turned around and went back toward the bathroom. She sat down at a table at the donut place. She was still crying. She put her head down on the table. That’s when I bolted.”

The image of Elizabeth, alone and crying by herself at a table in some food court, pierced me and it took a moment to catch my breath. If I’d been alone with Mikey, he wouldn’t have walked away. I was ready to empty every ounce of my anger into him.

“The money,” Anchor said. “You have the money from the purse.”

Mikey started to reach for his back pocket, then stopped. “It’s in my pocket. I can reach for it?”

Anchor nodded.

Mikey pulled a wad of cash out of his back pocket and held it out to Anchor. Anchor nodded at me and Mikey frowned, then held it out to me.

I took it and counted it out. Four hundred bucks.

“Take anything else out of it?” I asked, handing the money to Lauren. “Credit card? Anything?”

He shook his head. “Cash only. I don’t mess with credit cards. And there wasn’t nothing else in there to take.”

I looked at Lauren. She dropped the money in the bag and closed it up, then put it over her shoulder.

“Why’d you use the phone?” I said.

He scowled, his entire face wrinkling up with irritation. “I didn’t. Jess did. Which we don’t ever do. But she had to call her friend and tell her about the score.” The irritation faded. “Four hundred was biggest score in awhile. She was bragging.”

Anchor tilted his head toward Kitting.

“That’s accurate,” Kitting said. “Girl confirmed and I checked with the friend. Nothing there.”

Anchor nodded, then looked at me. “Anything else?”

I shook my head.

Anchor opened the door and Mikey slinked back into the car. Anchor closed the door behind him, then walked over to Kitting. They exchanged several words, Kitting nodded and headed for the driver’s side of the Escalade. We stood there silently as the SUV pulled away from the curb.

“I’m sorry there wasn’t more information to be had,” Anchor said. “But at least you have her belongings back.”

I nodded.

“Can I ask a question?” Lauren said.

“Certainly.”

“Do I want to know what your guy is going do with them now?” she asked.

Anchor chuckled, pulled his phone from his pocket and began thumbing away at the screen. “You make it sound so sinister.”

“In some ways, it sort of feels like it is,” she answered.

Anchor made a non-committal shrug. “Perhaps.” He put the phone back in his pocket. “They served their purpose. We have no further interest in them and we don’t need to draw any attention their way or ours. Ellis will return them home safely.”

Lauren exhaled.

“But they will be reminded that they never saw us or met us or had this conversation,” Anchor added.