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“None of your fucking business.”

“You still haven’t told us why you were shoplifting,” Grady said. “For fun? Get your rocks off like that? Looking to venture into a life of crime? Just so you know, it’s not as lucrative as you’d think.”

Riley glared. “It was for my boyfriend,” he said through gritted teeth. The defiance in his gaze told Grady exactly how Riley thought they would respond to that. At least it explained why he’d lied about no-one caring about him; he’d been trying to protect someone.

And the flowers made more sense now, too. Romantic, Grady supposed, if incredibly misguided.

Quinn sighed. He gestured with his head for them to talk privately.

Grady scowled at the kid. “Don’t move.” Not that he was going anywhere until they uncuffed him.

“Yes, sir,” Riley said sarcastically.

“What do you think?” Quinn asked when they were out of earshot.

“I think he has a smart mouth.” Grady shrugged, shoving one hand in the pocket of his slacks. “But he’s obviously had some negative reactions to his sexuality, and it makes me want to punch someone in the mouth. I also don’t think arresting him is going to do anything but turn that cynicism into real anger. And then we have a real criminal on our hands instead of a harmless delinquent. I think we have enough of those in the city.”

“And you just want to send him back to foster parents that don’t even know he’s not in school and trying to shoplift at a servo?” Quinn asked. He looked like he’d prefer to arrest the foster parents more than the kid. Grady understood. Negligence was unacceptable, regardless of the role a person plays in a child’s life. Adults were supposed to protect them, always.

“He said he doesn’t spend a lot of time there,” Grady pointed out. “Maybe he stays at his boyfriend’s a lot? I’d like to get some details about who that is. If someone is preying on the kid, then maybe I’ll get to arrest someone today.”

“You can fill your quota another time,” Quinn said with a small smirk. “We’ll take him back to the station, get some more details about his foster parents, his boyfriend, and his school, and then go from there.”

“All right, sounds good to me.” It wasn’t like he had anything better to do. His whiskey could wait another few hours. It wasn’t going anywhere.

Riley was glaring sullenly when Grady returned to him. The glare didn’t disappear, but it did lessen when Grady uncuffed him.

“You’re taking a trip with us,” Grady told him, keeping a firm grip on his arm. If he had to engage in a chase with the twerp again, he was going to be in an even worse mood. No one wanted that.

“I’m under arrest,” Riley said snidely, his eyes going flat.

“No,” Quinn said. “You can use the showers at the precinct to clean up, and then we just want to have a chat with you.”

“About what?”

“One thing at a time,” Quinn said wryly.

“And—” Grady cut off when his phone rang in his pocket. He frowned when he saw Gideon’s name flash up on the screen. “It’s Gid. Give me a second.”

He walked far enough away from them so he couldn’t be overheard and answered it with a barked out, “What?”

“Chill, Grady, you’re gonna hurt yourself.”

“Gideon, I’m kind of in the middle of something, so if this isn’t—”

“I’m on the scene of a car accident,” Gideon began.

“So deal with it?” Grady snapped. “Quinn and I have our own shit right now.” He fuckingstankof whatever the fuck had been in that dirty water. He wanted a shower and to sort out what the fuck they were going to do with the surly teenager.

“Look, it’s bad, but no one was hurt, and the ambulance has been and gone. Now we’re just dealing with the usual bullshit and waiting for a tow truck. But I need you to get down here.”

Grady glanced at where Quinn was quietly talking to Riley, who was still looking surly, but at least not like he wanted to bolt anymore. He didn’t have that twitchy look in his eyes that warned of an impending runner.

“Why?”

“The guy that came in with your shirt just after New Year’s? What was his name? River? Ocean?”

Grady froze, his heart jumping into his throat. “Lake?”