“Here’s info on the suspected perp: James Subui,” Ellis said, handing over a computer printout.

Meeks scanned the information. “Second-generation immigrant…that explains the accent. Fourteen misdemeanors since age fourteen and twenty-seven days cumulative jail time. Charged with two felonies but cases dismissed.”

“Thank you for repeating what the computer just told me,” said Ellis. “I think it sounds much better in your dulcet tone anyhow.”

Without looking up, Meeks flung a balled-up and coffee-soaked napkin at Ellis. “Did you notice his birthday, smartass?”

Ellis examined his own copy. “Kid turns eighteen in a week,” he said. “What were you thinking? That he’s trying to get a little more action in before his file is sealed?

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