Angel Interrupted by Chaz McGee

was soon joined by a colleague who had completed the search of his assigned room. He went right to a large-screen computer that dominated the room. A few spiral-bound notebooks and a row of pens were lined up next to its keyboard, but otherwise the counter was uncluttered, which was pretty remarkable given the old soda and fast-food wrappers filling every other surface.
    “This is it,” the first cop predicted. “We’ve got him now.”
    “Bingo,” the other said. He’d pulled up Martin’s browser history on the computer. “I’m no expert, but name a kiddie porn site or chat room and I’m betting it’s here. It’s all the guy ever went to.”
    “Of course I went to those sites,” a voice said from the doorway. Martin had followed the extra man to his office. It was the only room in the house he really cared about. “I volunteer for an organization that tracks child abusers and sex offenders. I go online and pretend to be a kid. That’s how we know who to track online.”
    The men stared at him blankly.
    “It’s called KinderWatch,” Martin said proudly. “We have members up and down the East Coast, even a few in the Midwest. The founder lives right here, about a mile away. Ask him. He’ll tell you. I’m one of his best volunteers.”
    Had he been better able to read the mood in the room, Martin’s sense of pride would have deflated in favor of fear. They’d seen the sites he had visited. Their judgment was swift and it was final.
    “What’s going on?” Calvano asked from the doorway. Noni stood behind him, craning her neck, trying to see into the room.
    “Kiddie porn sites,” one of the men said loudly. “I’m checking his hard drive next.”
    “Looks like I need you to come to the station,” Calvano told Martin, a petty note of triumph in his voice.
    “But I’m not one of them, I watch them. For you guys,” Martin protested.
    “You need to come with me,” Calvano answered, pushing him toward the hall. That was Calvano for you. Why use persuasion when a little bullying would do?
    “He’s not answering any questions without a lawyer present,” Noni announced, inserting her small frame between Martin and Calvano.
    “Who are you?” Calvano asked rudely and, focusing on her for the first time, realized he had seen her earlier, but was unable to make the leap from the sweet, little old lady before him to any connection to a kidnapped boy. “What’s it to you?”
    “I was a friend of his mother’s. I promised to look after him,” she said firmly. Martin gave her a look of gratitude so raw I felt as if I had invaded his privacy just seeing it.
    “I will not permit you to ask him questions without a lawyer present,” Noni said. She turned to Robert Michael Martin. “You go with the detective but you sit there and you do not say a word until I bring a lawyer to you. Do you understand?”
    Martin nodded mutely. Calvano still had a hand clamped on his shoulder, and the poor bastard was starting to get seriously scared.
    “Furthermore,” Noni added. “He withdraws permission for you to search his house. You’ll have to get a warrant.”
    “It’s way too late for that, lady,” the man at the computer said. “Way too late.”
    Calvano pushed Martin forward and he began to shuffle toward the front door as awkwardly as if he were wearing leg irons. “Don’t handcuff me,” he said. “I don’t want the neighbors to see.”
    Calvano was mean enough to laugh. “You need to lay off watching so much television. You’re doing this voluntarily. No one’s arresting you. Yet.” He pushed him out the front door. A handful of neighbors had already gathered, drawn by the cars parked outside. Regardless of what happened to Martin now, neighbors were drawing their own conclusions. His name would be repeated all up and down the blocks of his neighborhood. God knows what people would say. By sundown, he’d have murdered the nurse and taken the boy and eaten him alive.
    Noni lingered behind.