Half an hour later, in the Gallagher family dining room, everyone was sitting around the table.
Krrch. Krrch.
A crackle of static broke the silence over the table.
—Detective Morgan —Ruzek's voice came through the radio— Any luck?
Ethan picked up the walkie-talkie and pressed the button naturally.
—I'm just taking a drive around the neighborhood —he said, in a tone indifferent enough not to raise suspicion— I have a friend nearby. I'm on my way to see her. Maybe she saw something. Don't contact me unless it's important.
There was a brief crackle of static.
—Copy that.
The radio fell silent afterward.
Ethan set it down on the table, and when he looked up, he immediately noticed that everyone was staring at him.
Well, almost everyone.
Fiona had already accepted that Ethan was a cop, so a simple police radio wasn't enough to impress her, but the others were watching him with a mixture of surprise, curiosity, and awe.
Especially Carl, whose eyes were shining with intensity.
—Cool! —the boy exclaimed, unable to contain himself.
A huge smile appeared on his face, and he extended his fist toward Ethan.
—I knew you were someone super cool.
Ethan looked at the fist, then at Fiona, who shook her head as if warning him not to encourage it.
Of course, Ethan encouraged it.
He bumped fists with Carl.
—Can I play with your gun?
—No.
Fiona, Lip, and Ethan answered almost at the same time.
Carl made a face.
—I wasn't even going to shoot anyone.
—That doesn't make the question better —Ethan said.
—Can I see it, then?
—Another time, I promise —Ethan replied, steering the subject away with a smile.
Fiona gave him a tired look of gratitude, though her nerves were still too tense for her to truly smile.
Ethan then turned his attention back to Debbie.
The girl was still by the door, her shoulders hunched and her gaze lowered. She no longer looked annoyed or defiant. Now she only looked scared.
Ethan softened his tone a little, but not his expression.
—All right, Debbie. Now we need to go over a few things.
She barely lifted her eyes.
—Things?
—Important things —Ethan said— We need to make sure that when someone asks you something later, you don't say anything that could make this worse.
Debbie swallowed.
—Like what?
—Like the word "kidnap" —Fiona cut in immediately, pointing at her— That word is forbidden.
—I didn't know it was kidnapping —Debbie murmured.
—That's why we're going to practice —Ethan said, crouching slightly so he was closer to her height— You're going to say exactly what happened, but in a way that doesn't make CPS show up at this house before dinner.
Carl raised his hand.
—Can I participate?
—No —Fiona and Ian answered at the same time.
Carl lowered his hand, offended.
Ethan did not take his eyes off Debbie.
—Can you do that?
Debbie hesitated for a second, then nodded slowly.
—Yes.
—Good —Ethan said— Then let's start from the beginning.
—Mmm, I understand.
Debbie's face flushed, and she nodded.
—Why did you take that boy? —Ethan asked.
Debbie explained:
—He was crying for his mother, but there was no one around.
Fiona looked at Debbie and asked seriously:
—Did you try to find his mother?
—No.
Debbie shook her head, her braids swinging quickly.
—I already told you he was crying, but no one cared.
—I felt sorry for him, so I took him with me.
—Hey.
Fiona lifted her hands in exasperation.
—What is wrong with you?
—Promise me you'll never do anything like that again.
—I understand.
Feeling everyone's eyes on her, Debbie first pressed her lips together and then said in a low voice:
—I promise.
How could that little brain even think of such complicated things?
In a normal family, a girl Debbie's age would still be playing with dolls at home.
Ethan was speechless for a moment, then pulled out a cigarette and lit it.
Seeing the pack of cigarettes and the lighter on the table, Lip blinked and looked at Ethan.
Ethan shrugged and exhaled smoke indifferently.
—Debbie —Lip said, skillfully lighting a cigarette before tossing the pack to Ian— When you took Casey, was he inside or outside the yard?
Debbie answered without hesitation:
—Inside.
Lip swallowed and continued asking:
—Okay, and how did you get him out?
—With this.
Debbie pulled a half-eaten Snickers bar out of her pocket.
—Just like that. He followed me.
—Oh, my God!
Fiona covered her face with both hands, not knowing how to react.
Luring a child away with candy sounded like something a middle-aged pervert would do.
Hearing it come from Debbie, who was ten years old, made it extremely absurd.
—Did anyone see you?
Ethan focused on the key point.
—On your way back with Casey, did you run into anyone?
—No.
Debbie spoke with complete certainty.
—I put him in the stroller and ran right away.
—There wasn't anyone on the road either.
—You ran!
Fiona shot to her feet and said angrily:
—You even knew you had to run?
—This is kidnapping. Do you understand?
—I'm sorry.
Debbie had never seen Fiona treat her like that; her little face tightened.
—I know I was wrong.
Pulling Fiona back down, Ethan gently asked Debbie:
—What kind of stroller?
—A baby stroller, the one Liam used before —Debbie said with disdain.
—That stroller broke a long time ago.
Fiona said, agitated:
—Didn't I tell you to throw it away ages ago?
—I managed to fix it.
Debbie did not dare look her older sister in the eye.
—I thought maybe I could use it someday.
—Ugh.
Ethan exhaled a thick cloud of smoke, feeling a headache coming on because of this girl.
He really didn't know what to say.
Bang, bang, bang.
Just as he was reorganizing his thoughts, loud knocks sounded at the nearby door.
The sudden pounding startled everyone.
—Open this damn door right now!
Veronica's accusatory voice rang out from outside.
—I know all of you bastards are in there.
Hearing her voice, Lip quickly ran to open the door.
Veronica stormed inside, her lips moving rapidly.
—Sometimes I really don't understand you Gallaghers.
—Are you insane? Huh?
—Didn't you hear the police sirens outside, you lunatics?
Kevin followed her, carrying a basket of dirty laundry.
He set the plastic basket on the floor and pulled aside the towel covering it, revealing Casey sitting inside.
—Please, don't tell me this is the missing kid!
—My God! What were you thinking?
—Didn't you tell her a moment ago? —Ian looked at Fiona.
—There wasn't time.
Fiona quickly approached Veronica.
—Debbie took him, and we're trying to figure out how to return him.
—I'm sorry, I have to keep Debbie from risking reform school. Besides, Lip, Ian, Carl, and Liam… you know what they'll face.
—You people, this is absolutely insane.
Kevin set down the laundry basket he was holding and said, upset:
—There are at least dozens of cops nearby. If just one or two of them knock on the door, we're in deep trouble.
—Hey, Ethan.
Only then did he notice there was someone who wasn't a Gallagher sitting at the dining table.
—Why are you here too?
Kevin looked even more surprised when he saw the object beside Ethan's hand.
—Why do you have a police radio next to you?
—What the hell?
Kevin and Veronica spoke at the same time, turning toward Ethan with the same expression of surprise.
—Wait, wait, wait —Kevin said, raising a hand— You're a cop?
—Detective —Ethan corrected, with a calm smile.
—And why the hell did you never tell me you were a cop? —Kevin asked, still trying to process it.
Ethan shrugged.
—You never asked.
Kevin opened his mouth, then closed it, as if he couldn't decide whether that answer was valid or insulting.
—I didn't think I had to ask "hey, are you a cop by any chance?" to every guy who sits in my bar.
—Rookie mistake —Carl said, crossing his arms as if he had just revealed a basic rule of survival— You always have to ask a guy if he's a cop.
Kevin looked at him, confused.
—And why would I do that?
Carl shrugged.
—Because if he says yes, you know he's a cop. And if he says no, he's probably a cop too, but at least now you know he's lying.
Ethan let out a low laugh.
Ethan smiled and ruffled the boy's hair.
Carl only wrinkled his nose.
—And Carl, I'm not a cop.
—Same thing to me.
—No, it's not the same —Ethan said, pretending to be serious— A cop patrols the street. A detective solves the hard cases.
Carl looked at him with more interest.
—And you're a detective?
Ethan smiled sideways.
—I'm the baddest and coolest detective in all of Chicago.
From the other side, Fiona let out a snort.
Carl's eyes widened a little, clearly interested.
—Really? —Carl asked, staring at him wide-eyed.
—Of course —Ethan replied, lowering his voice a little as if he were trusting him with a secret— You've seen those guys on the street, right? The ones who stand on corners acting like they own the neighborhood.
—Yeah —Carl nodded immediately— Those guys are scary. Everyone moves out of the way when they pass.
Ethan let out a small laugh and shook his head.
—They all think they're tough, but when they see this —Ethan said, touching his badge with one finger— they lower their eyes, hide their hands, and start walking faster.
Carl blinked, growing more and more impressed.
—Do they run away?
—Some of them try to act brave first —Ethan said, shrugging— But in the end, they all either run, talk, or cry.
Carl opened his mouth, amazed.
Ethan leaned slightly toward him, a lopsided smile on his face.
—So tell me, Carl: if those guys make people cross the street, but they cross the street when they see me… who do you think is in charge there?
Carl stayed there thinking. Then he looked down and began counting on his fingers, following that simple logic with all the concentration in the world. After a few seconds, he lifted his head and nodded with absolute conviction.
—You're tougher!
—Exactly.
Ethan gave him a gentle pat on the shoulder.
—You're learning.
Meanwhile, Veronica, who had already gotten over the initial shock of seeing the missing child in her house, began focusing on the more important problem.
—Then wait one damn second.
She looked at Fiona and then pointed directly at Ethan.
—If he's a cop, why can't we just hand the kid over to him and be done with it? That would solve everything, wouldn't it?
Fiona opened her mouth, but didn't manage to say anything.
Veronica slapped her forehead with the palm of her hand, as if she had just remembered what kind of family she had gotten involved with.
—I forgot. You're the damn Gallaghers. It's always complicated with you.
Ethan couldn't help but smile faintly.
—Don't joke —Fiona murmured, tense.
Veronica lowered her voice, though disbelief was still written all over her face.
—But seriously, why would Debbie do something like this? What kind of mind thinks it's a good idea to bring a missing child home, put makeup on him, and dress him like a girl?
—Shh.
Fiona interrupted her immediately and looked toward the living room, where Debbie was still sitting near Casey, far too quiet to be normal.
Veronica understood the gesture. So did Ethan.
Leaving Debbie and Casey on the other side, everyone moved a few steps toward the kitchen, far enough away to talk without the girl hearing every word.
Fiona crossed her arms, holding herself as if that could keep her together.
—I'm sorry —she said quietly, looking at Veronica— I didn't know who else to turn to.
Fiona sat down on the couch, rubbing her temples tiredly.
—I don't know what's wrong with Debbie either.
—Maybe it's because your mother ran away from home.
Kevin walked over to the window, looked outside, and then continued:
—And your father is an alcoholic.
—Honestly, I'm not surprised.
—Hey.
Veronica glared at Kevin.
—Shut up.
—Why?
Kevin waved his hands, defending himself gently.
—Do you think I'm an asshole? I didn't kidnap a kid.
—All right.
Ethan stepped forward to take control.
—Everybody calm down and focus.
—Now let's talk about how to return Casey.
—Do you have a map?
He looked at Lip, with his curly hair, and said:
—We need to choose a route that won't raise suspicion and that makes sense.
—Yeah, I have one.
Lip quickly opened the drawer under the table.
According to Fiona, Lip was the smartest one in the family, and he also knew the neighborhood very well.