Play With Me

moment.
    After staring
for a second, she glanced down at my backpack. “What in the world—”
    My gaze snapped
to my bag, too.
    Crap! A sleeve peeked out. An instant later, she pulled a whistle on a
chain from underneath her collar, and her cheeks bloated like two tomatoes on a
vine when she set London’s entire South End on alarm.
    “Go! Go! Go!” I
pushed Debby forward as I dashed away from the clothes stand.
    “Thief! Stop!”
The shrill voice echoed down the street followed by another alarming whistle.
Heads turned our way. From the corner of my eye, I spotted two men in uniform
stepping away from a kiosk and scanning the crowd. Of course, they were
searching for us. My adrenaline kicked in, tensing every one of my muscles like
an over-strung rubber band.
    “This way!”
Debby tugged on my backpack, almost tipping me sideways. She pulled me behind
another stand with yellowed books and silver cutlery. There were more stands
ahead, and shoppers turned annoyed eyes on us when we pushed through the crowd.
    “Jona, we need
to split up. They can’t catch us both.” Debby was breathing hard. “You go left,
and I’ll keep straight.”
    I turned to the
left. A bloody dead end.
    “You want me to
play bait for the cops? Are you nuts? They’ll get me!”
    “You’re not
eighteen yet. They can’t nail you for anything.” Her hand curled around my
upper arm. She shoved me forward as she scanned for the policemen. “Your teacher
will save your arse. She does every time.”
    “No! She
threatened to let me rot in prison if I ever steal again.”
    “Don’t be such a
wimp.” Debby’s shoulder collided with mine, shoving me sharply to the side. My
lungs stopped sucking in air. Mouth open, I pivoted to face Debby. Her evil
grin was the last thing I saw as she vanished into the crowd.
    “The brats have
run this way,” a gravelly voice reached me.
    I peeked over my
shoulder. Bloody hell. They were fast on my heels. Their blue caps
bobbed out from the crowd and moved steadily forward. I was perfect bait for
them.
    Not today.
    Debby had kept
straight on, so I angled to the right. Surely, there would be some chance of my
getting out of this open market. The pounding in my ears shut out the murmur of
the shoppers. My gaze darted over the crowd. Bobbing heads moved like waves.
Dammit! Which way would get me out of here?
    I stopped,
trying to catch my breath, then pivoted. There was no thinning of the crowd,
but the blue police caps came on, angling my way at a speed that should’ve been
impossible in the packed market.
    Beads of sweat
dotted my face and the back of my neck. Miss Mulligan would kill me if I got
involved with the police again.
    I used my hand
as a shield against the gleaming afternoon sun. A dowdy overweight matron with
an oversized green hat shoved me aside. I lost my balance, nearly knocked over
a toddler with huge brown eyes, sucking on a lollipop. Instead, I collided with
an old lady whose shrill cry not only pained my ears, but also gave me away.
    “Sorry, ma’am,”
I muttered, noticing her hunched back and the scarf wrapped about her gray
hair. Her glasses sat askew across her nose, and one of her crutches had
dropped to the ground. Quickly, I bent to pick it up for her.
    “Are you all
right? I didn’t mean to hurt you.” I ducked my head and adjusted the glasses
with shaking fingers. My feet already bounced in the direction of escape.
    “Get off, you
nasty child!” The lady dropped the crutch to swat my hands away from her face.
“Don’t any of you kids have eyes in your useless heads?”
    That got me
moving. I dropped to my hands and knees and crawled away, doing my best to
dodge the oncoming pedestrians. A heavy boot with rubber treads landed on my
fingers. I bit my tongue to keep from crying out in pain. Maybe crawling wasn’t
the best way to move through a crowd as thick as Miss Weatherby’s vanilla
pudding. I jumped to my feet.
    “Move!” The same
gravelly voice I’d heard earlier parted the crowd like the Red Sea.
    “Riley, I got
her!” said a very angry bobby.
    The man leaped
forward, lunging for my arm. My heart pounded. I spun on my heel, ready to dash
away to safety, but instead bounced right into the solid, uniform-clad chest of
my captor’s partner. He was smaller, and stout, but his grip on my shoulders
was iron.
    Fear had ice
settling in my veins. “Let go!” I kicked his shin and wrenched free from his
clammy grip.
    The man yelped
and hobbled on his good