a couple of officers on the evening shift, a man and a woman, scowling at a deskcomp. The woman looked up when Kelsa came in.
"Can I help you?" Her soft Canadian accent was more pronounced than most, and she summoned up a smile despite her annoyance. The quivering tension in Kelsa's belly eased. Cops were human. After Otter Woman, that seemed like a very good thing.
"I'm not sure," Kelsa told her. "A friend of mine was supposed to meet me today, to do some trail biking, but he never showed up. I know it's early to report someone missing, and he's not ... it wouldn't be the first time he missed an appointment. But he usually coms if he's going to be a whole day late, and I haven't heard anything. So I thought I'd better see if something happened to him."
"He was probably just delayed," the woman said soothingly. "And if our link wasn't down, I could check the accident reports. But I'm afraid - "
"It's probably squirrels again," the man put in. "They gnaw the wires."
"I can tell you if any of our officers dealt with him," the woman offered. "What's his name?"
"He goes by Raven." Kelsa had anticipated this question and had a story ready. She hoped it didn't contradict whatever he'd already told them, but the scenario she'd come up with should cover any discrepancies.
The woman's hands, poised above the keyboard, froze. "Is he a First Nations boy, about seventeen, five foot ten, 155 pounds?"
"Yes," said Kelsa. "At least, I guess that's what he weighs. Did something happen to him?"
The difficulty was keeping anxiety out of her expression, not letting some leak in. If Raven had somehow avoided arrest, and just not managed to find her, all of this would be for nothing.
The woman snorted. "You could say that. He's right here, in a cell in the basement. In jail," she added, to clear up any doubt.
"But ... did he crack up his bike? He's not much of a drinker. Really."
"No, nothing like that," the clerk said. The male cop had drifted over and was listening. "He just blew a tire. But after it was fixed, his girlfriend took off on the bike leaving a two-hundred-dollar repair bill. The garage owner kept hold of him and called us."
"But why didn't he just..." Kelsa began artfully. "Oh. Wait. I bet he didn't have enough cash on him to pay for the repair. Right?"
"He didn't," the woman confirmed. Her voice was still friendly, but her gaze was sharp. Kelsa could see both of them comparing her with Charlie's description of the girlfriend - and not finding a match. When they'd call him to come identify her, he wouldn't be home.
"He also had no ID and no account cards," the woman continued. "And he refused to give his real name."
Kelsa sighed. "He's such a jerk. But in a way you can't blame him. If his father found out where he was, he'd be dragged home in a heartbeat. And he really, really doesn't want that. They know he hasn't been kidnapped or anything," she added. "He lets them know he's OK. But ... Well..."
"So what is his name?" the woman asked. Her voice wasn't so polite now.
"I don't think I should tell you," Kelsa said apologetically. "Not if he didn't. He's going to be eighteen in eight months, and then it won't matter nearly as much, but for now ... Well, you understand."
"No," said the woman. "I don't. What's your name, Miss? And may I see some ID, please?"
"Sure." Kelsa handed over her card. "I'm sorry he made so much trouble for you. He doesn't mean to, but there are some things he just doesn't get. He grew up with other people taking care of things like bike repairs."
The woman looked at her picture, then at her nonfunctional card reader, and sighed. "Kelsa Phillips?"
"That's right," Kelsa said. "How much did you say that bill was?"
"Over two hundred dollars," the male cop put in. "I don't suppose you're prepared to pay it?"
"I can't," Kelsa told them with real regret. "But he might be willing to let me contact someone who can. Who could take care of all of this, in fact. Can I see him?"
"You can't contact anyone till the link's back up." The woman gave her PID back to her. "But when he wouldn't tell us his name, we ran his face on a net ID program. We couldn't find him anywhere."
"Which should have told you a lot right