Мэри Эндрюс - The Newcomer

“I need some coffee,” Joe said. “And then we talk.”

The four of them sat around Ava’s kitchen table while Maya parked herself in front of PAW Patrol in the living room.

“I got a call from a sheriff’s deputy down in South Florida this morning,” Joe said. “They found Chuck’s body in a car, back in the swamp, with a bullet in his brain.”

Coffee splattered over the side of Ava DeCurtis’s mug. “Oh?”

Letty jumped up, fetched a paper towel, and began cleaning up the spill.

“Sorry to break it to you like that, but I didn’t know how else to tell you,” he said.

“It was only a matter of time, I guess,” Ava said, scowling. But her hands shook as she sipped what was left of her coffee. “I guess he got what he had coming to him. Does that deputy know who did it?”

“That’s why he was calling me,” Joe said. “The car was stolen, and they were only able to identify him from fingerprints. When they ran them through the state’s criminal records system they found the warrant we had out on Chuck. He wanted to know about Chuck’s pals. Tanya and Declan Rooney.

“I told him we think Rooney was spotted up here yesterday,” Joe continued. “We need to see that security-camera footage from Publix. I’ll call the manager back today and lean on him.”

Vikki spoke up. “That’s why I freaked this morning, when we couldn’t reach you, Letty.”

“Sorry,” Letty said. She looked around the table. “Really. I am sorry. I gave Maya my phone so she could watch a cartoon. And the battery ran down. I didn’t mean to worry everybody.”

“We’re all gonna be on edge until this thing is over,” the FBI agent said. She handed her phone to Joe. “I think it’s time to take that photo of me with Maya. Don’t want Wingfield to start having second thoughts.”

Vikki went into the living room and sat beside Maya, who was lolling on the sofa cushions, softly singing to herself.

“Maya, Mr. Joe is going to take a picture of us together. Is that okay?”

“Okay,” the little girl agreed.

“Wait.” Letty took a hairbrush from her pocketbook and hurried to her niece’s side. “Let’s get rid of that bird’s nest in your hair.” She gently combed the child’s hair and clipped the sides with plastic barrettes that she fished out of the pocket of her shorts. She tugged at the hem of Maya’s pajama top so that it covered her exposed tummy. “We’ve got to get you some new clothes,” she said. “You’ve just about outgrown everything I packed for you.”

As Vikki posed the little girl on her lap, Letty felt another pang of guilt. Tanya would have died if she’d seen her daughter happily eating junky fast food in public, with uncombed hair and bare feet, dressed in her pajama top and a pair of shrunken leggings. She’d always taken such care with Maya’s appearance. “I can’t have her going around looking like some poor little street urchin,” she’d tell Letty, as an excuse for spending exorbitant amounts of money for a designer outfit her child would outgrow in three months. “And I won’t have Evan’s friends’ bitchy wives judging me and calling me white trash behind my back.”

Vikki stared straight ahead at the camera, unsmiling, while Maya kept watching television. Joe hovered a few feet away from the sofa, clicking the shutter. “Okay, I think I’ve got something we can use,” he said, handing the phone back to its owner.

The FBI agent studied the frames. “Yeah. This one will work. It’s the only one where Maya is looking directly at the camera.” She tapped the photo, typed something on the screen, then handed the phone over to Letty.

She’s fine. I need to get back to my job. Let’s do this.

Vikki tapped the phone and the message transmitted with a soft whooshing sound.

41

“HE’S PLAYING GAMES AGAIN,” VIKKI Hill said, after fifteen minutes had passed with no response from Evan Wingfield. She stood up and looked over at Joe. “Screw that. I’ve got calls to make. You’ll be around today?”

“Yeah. I want to go back to Publix and talk to that manager again.” He patted his back pocket. “I printed out Rooney’s most recent mug shot. It’s an old one, but I thought I’d show it to the cashiers to see if anyone recognizes him.”

“Let me know what you find out, and I’ll ping you if I hear back from Wingfield.”

“Guess I’d better get to work,” Letty said, taking the coffee mugs and setting them in the kitchen sink. She poked her head around the corner and called to her niece, who was busily coloring at Ava’s coffee table, along with Isabelle.

“C’mon, lovebug. Time to punch the clock.”

“If it’s okay with you, Letty, she can just hang out with me for a while this morning,” Isabelle said.

“Are you sure?” Letty asked. “I know she adores you, but it’s not fair to saddle you with a four-year-old all day.”

“I’m sure. I went to the Goodwill with one of my friends yesterday, and I found a cool dress-up princess dress for her, but I left it out in my car. We can hang out for a while, and then I’m supposed to have study group at the library with some kids from school.”

“Princess dress-up!” Maya said. “Bye, Letty.”

Letty sat back down at the table beside her boss. “Ava, I thought I’d get back to working on the new software this morning. Unless there’s something else? Do we have any check-ins today?”

“Just one,” Ava said, looking up from the morning newspaper. “Anita is over there now, but she should be done by noon.”

“Okay. I’ll take a look to make sure everything’s ready. Did the plumber fix that leaking shower head yesterday?”

“He said he did, but if you would, check that too.”

Joe followed Letty downstairs and into the front office. He took the sheet of paper from his pocket and smoothed it out on the reception desk.

“Just to be sure. Does this look like the guy you saw at Publix?”

She’d seen the mug shot before, but once again Letty was struck by Declan Rooney’s impossible-to-ignore appeal. The dark hair that flopped over his forehead, the sullen, glaring deep blue eyes with their impossibly thick, long, dark lashes, the high cheekbones and prominent hawklike nose. Tanya’s daughter shared her mother’s round face, pointed chin, Kewpie-doll lips, and fair coloring, but Maya’s eyes were unmistakably Rooney’s.

“One thing,” Letty said. “Now that I think about it, the guy I saw in the store had a beard. He was sort of scruffy-looking.”

Joe took a pen and began drawing facial hair on the photo, starting with the suggestion of a narrow mustache and neatly trimmed goatee.

“Like this?”

“Mmm, the beard was a little fuller than that. Not really hipster scruff, more like hobo.”

He sketched in more hair. “That’s it,” Letty said.

She tapped Declan Rooney’s photo. “I can see why Tanya fell for him. He looks—dangerous and unpredictable, and okay, sexy.”

“Like your sister?”

“Yeah,” Letty said softly. “I still wonder where and how they met.”

“I’ll be sure and ask when I arrest him,” Joe said. “I’m going back to Publix, to show this to some of the cashiers, and then I thought I’d hit some of the other nearby motels and restaurants, to see if anybody has seen him.”

Letty bit her lower lip. “So you really think that was Rooney? And he’s watching me—and Maya?”

“Now that we know what we do about Chuck, I’m afraid it’s safe to assume that Rooney could be in the area,” Joe said.

“Here’s a thought,” Letty said. “The Surf is part of a LISTSERV of motels and hotels from Clearwater south to St. Pete Beach. Managers put out advisories and alerts, you know, like if they want to warn the other motels about someone stealing from cars, or whatever. I can post a message to the list with Rooney’s photo, asking people to contact you if he’s staying there or if he’s spotted.”