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well-curved figure and excellent legs and found himself smiling. "She is definitely hot, and has the red hair to prove it."
    Sha'wan chuckled. "Can't wait to meet her. But for now, I'll climb up on the roof and take care of the tags on the upper part of the next house."
    "Watch your step." Rob's warning was automatic and a sign of his age rather than Sha'wan's climbing ability. Easily finding handholds, the younger man was on the roof in seconds. He'd been headed for a career in breaking and entering when he first crossed Rob's path. Now he used his talents in more productive ways.
    Sha'wan called down, "The wall of the next building is marked up pretty bad. Send up some paint, and I'll take care of it."
    "More of the tan?"
    "Gray this time."
    Rob moved to the graffiti removal van and pulled out an industrial size bucket of gray paint. The five basic colors stocked in the van were close enough for most situations. The idea was to obliterate graffiti, not provide a commercial painting job. After tying a rope to the handle of the paint bucket, he lugged it to the wall. "Ready?"
    The younger man straddled the ridgepole near the edge of the roof. "Bring it on."
    Rob threw the rope into the air. Sha'wan deftly caught it, then pulled the bucket up. "When I get through here, I'm headin' over to the Crabtown shopping center. Got a call this morning that taggers hit it last night."
    "If you need help, give me a call. This meeting shouldn't take long." Rob climbed into his pickup truck to drive to the church to meet Val. Though they had reached a tentative agreement on rental terms, she wanted to see the rest of the church before making a final commitment.
    He found himself whistling softly as he drove north. Strange to anticipate seeing someone so much. Even though his head knew it would have been better if she hadn't turned up on his doorstep, he couldn't help but like the idea of having her literally underfoot. With him living upstairs, he was bound to run into her regularly. If proximity proved too distracting, he could always move.
    From the corner of his eye, he saw an altercation on the shabby street. A tall, skinny kid was trying to steal an old woman's purse. She clung to it fiercely and risked being knocked over or worse.
    He slammed the truck to a stop against the curb, cut the engine, and vaulted out just as the old lady thwacked her cane across her assailant's ankles. As the kid squawked, Rob grabbed him and immobilized both arms behind his back.
    When his prisoner struggled, Rob twisted a wrist hard. "Hold still, or I'll break your arm," he ordered. "Are you all right, ma'am?"
    The old woman nodded. She must be over seventy and weighed maybe a hundred pounds soaking wet. "It's not the first time I've been mugged. Probably won't be the last." Her eyes narrowed as she studied her assailant. "I know you. You're Lucy Watts's grandson Darnell."
    Darnell made a choked sound. Guessing the kid was a nervous amateur, Rob released his hold, though he kept a wary eye. Even innocent-looking ten-year-olds could pull a knife or a gun. "What kind of fool attacks his grandmother's friends?"
    "I... I didn't know it was Miss Marian," Darnell stammered. "Didn't mean to hurt nobody." He was maybe fourteen if not younger. "I never did nothin' like this before."
    "Did you let your so-called friends bully you into a purse snatching?" Rob asked sternly.
    Darnell's gaze dropped.
    Rob continued, "The city courts are cracking down hard on violent criminals." He unhooked the cell phone from his belt. "If you try to run while I call nine-one-one, I promise that you will regret it."
    "He's been hangin' out with bad company, Lucy says." Miss Marian frowned. "You want to end up in jail or dead, Darnell?"
    The boy shook his head miserably. He looked very young and very frightened. Rob and Miss Marian exchanged a glance. This was, as the psychologists said, a teachable moment. If they did the right thing, maybe they could keep a basically decent kid from