Then she saw me crouched next to Ellie’s chair.
She moved fast. Faster than I expected for a woman in flats. She was between us in about two seconds, one hand on the back of Ellie’s chair, the other held out to me like a stop sign.
“Sir, I’m going to need you to step back. This child is in state custody and I —”
“Ma’am,” I said, and I stood up slow with my hands where she could see them. “I’m not trying to cause a problem. She rolled over to me. I was pumping gas.”
Miss Karen looked at Ellie. Ellie was still holding my sleeve.
“Ellie, honey, let go of the man’s jacket. We have to go now.”
Ellie’s grip got tighter.
“He said yes,” Ellie said. Which was a bald-faced lie. I hadn’t said anything.
Miss Karen looked at me. She was maybe 45. Tired eyes. A cross around her neck. A wedding ring that had seen better years.
“Sir, did you tell this child you would take her?”
