Page 165 of Pride High 3: Yellow
“That depends on if he’s considered an accomplice or not.” Detective Truman leaned back. “You’re right though, Mr. Nishikawa. Normally in this sort of situation, we’d ask the culprits to clean up the mess they made and leave it at that. But arson is a serious crime and can result in incarceration, even for someone your son’s age.”
“Incarceration!” Ami gasped, pressing a hand over her chest.
“I’m afraid so. I have no say over such things. My job is to gather evidence. The judge—and if it goes to trial, a jury—will decide what to do with that information. However, with a taped confession, I expect it to be a fairly clear-cut case. You’ll still be expected to report to the Juvenile Intake Center, but if Diego Gomez is in custody by then, I’m certain you’ll return home the same day with no more than a slap on your wrist.” The detective smiled, as if he’d just shared good news.
Ricky’s parents didnotseem comforted.
“Sounds like we might need a lawyer,” Ken said.
“You’re welcome to seek representation,” Detective Truman said, “but it bears repeating that if we can get Mr. Gomez in custody, your sons’ troubles will evaporate. Almost like magic.” He turned to a fresh page on his notepad. “Where do you think we can find him?”
Ricky swallowed, and after taking in the pleading expressions on his parents’ faces, began naming places. Turing’s Arcade on Main Street, but not the bar where Diego actually hung out. A fast-food restaurant that Ricky had been curious about until Diego mentioned that he’d gotten food poisoning there and had never gone back. Ricky made sure to sprinkle some truth in too. “His dad’s grave is really important to him,” he said. Even that seemed too much. What if they gave his photo to the people who worked at the cemetery, or the police did a stakeout there?
“I’ll look into these leads,” Detective Truman said, seeming disappointed rather than hopeful. “Ricky will still need to report to the Juvenile Intake Center, but I think that can wait until the end of the week when school is out. I sure hope we find Diego before then, bud. Otherwise, it’s going to be a rough start to the summer for you.”
The detective hung around a little longer to answer his parents’ questions, but it was clear he was waiting for Ricky to crack. He didn’t. Even after the detective left and his parents posed the same question to him.
“Do you know where he is?” Ami asked with a concerned expression.
“No,” Ricky said. And it was true. He wasn’t sure if Diego had gone to the cave yet. He only knew where his boyfriend would be tonight.
“Okay,” his mother replied. “Go to your room, please.”
Ricky silently complied, surprised that he didn’t have to sit through a scathing lecture before his banishment. Once upstairs, he paced the length of his bedroom, trying to figure out what to do. He should have known that his parents were doing the same thing. About an hour later they knocked on his door but didn’t wait for permission before entering. His dad gave him a different version of the lecture he’d heard from the detective, asking him to betray Diego to save his own skin. Then his mother dropped a bombshell.
“You’re going to stay with your grandparents for the summer.”
“In Seattle?” he said in disbelief. “I don’t want to!”
“That doesn’t matter,” Ami said. “We’re going to explain to the judge how you got off to a rough start here and fell in with the wrong crowd. We’re hoping that our solution will circumvent the need for them to come up with their own punishment for you.”
Ricky felt dizzy as he considered the implications. “Can’t you just ground me?”
“We’ve tried that,” Ami said with forced patience, “and it obviously wasn’t effective. Your father and I need to work. We can’t be here all day to make sure you don’t get into trouble. Only your grandparents have that luxury.”
“Have them come down here then!” Ricky said, leaping on the idea.
“You need some perspective,” Ken countered. “I know you don’t like the idea now, but a little distance will do you good. You’ll see.”
“Of course it’s possible that the judge won’t let you leave,” Ami said. “You might be in a detention center instead. That’s why it’s so important that the police find Diego.”
Ricky clenched his jaw shut and glared at them. He refused to say another word until they had both left his room. Once they had, he tried cussing, but it came out sounding sad and defeated instead of defiant.
“God damn it.”
Ricky sat on his bed, imagining what the night would bring, how Diego would wait for him in the cave while feeling abandoned. Or worse, he’d come looking for Ricky. If he showed up here, his parents would call the police. In a heartbeat. But only if he sat here all night feeling sorry for himself.
Ricky opened his bedroom door and listened. He could hear a one-sided conversation elsewhere in the house, like his mother was on the phone. His dad was probably somewhere near her. Ricky grabbed a pair of shoes but left them off so he could tiptoe down the hall to the bathroom. He turned on the shower, locked the bathroom door, and pulled it shut behind him on his way out. Then he crept down the stairs to the entryway, where his backpack still sat. He grabbed it and let himself out as silently as possible. With the promise of freedom propelling him, Ricky broke into a run.
— — —
“This is a bad idea,” Anthony said for the millionth time. Not that it seemed to get through to his passenger. He glanced over at Ricky, whose face looked just as troubled as when he’d shown up on Anthony’s doorstep, asking for a ride.
“I know,” Ricky said glumly. “But I have to see him. It’s the only way I can keep him safe.”
Anthony considered the dirt road, hemmed in on both sides by trees. “Where are we going?”
“It’s a secret,” Ricky said. “You won’t tell the cops where we are, will you?”
