He was still grinning, like it was completely normal to jump into the front seat of a police car that’s not yours. 

“Well, no sir,” Bones replied politely. “This all started when we were riding our bikes and went into an intersection causing this donut truck to—” 

“Bones!” I said, throwing my hands up in the air. “This guy doesn’t care! He just robbed a bank!” Bones’ mouth dropped open. The old man looked at me and winked, then flipped open his briefcase, which he had laid on the front passenger seat. He pulled out a huge wad of money and waved it. 

“You’re going to make detective before you know it, boy!” Then he turned to Bones and said, “And thanks for setting all those donuts free, son. The entire Ridgewood police department was still investigating when I went to make”—he put his fingers up and made air quotes—“‘a withdrawal.’” 

He laughed and pulled a slim, metal tool out of the side of his sport jacket and slipped it into the ignition. Before I even had a chance to blink, he had started the cruiser and was shifting the lever to drive. “How about we take a ride, boys?” 

I looked at Bones. “Oh no, not again.” 

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