Мэри Эндрюс - The Newcomer

“I don’t believe you. He’d never just give some random stranger my phone number.”

There was that same closed-mouth smile again. “You forget how good I am at what I do.”

Rooney caught Tanya’s hand in his and brought it to his lips. He kissed her open palm, and then she abruptly pulled away, walking far enough from the nanny cam that they could decode only part of her response.

“I’m still furious … And Chuck … leave me like that?… a week in jail!… threatening … federal prison … sick … puking up my guts every morning. It was the worst experience of my life.”

Rooney’s deep voice was much clearer as he spontaneously laid on the Irish brogue. “Aah, well, darlin’, we had no choice. Chuck and I, we’ve got a little history with the criminal-justice system, but you, on the other hand, had none. We knew with your pretty face and acting abilities, you’d find a way out of a jam.”

Tanya walked back into camera range. “Don’t start that phony Irish crap with me, Rooney. I know better.”

“And yet, here you are today.” He gestured around the room. “Not exactly a shitty motel room at the Murmuring Surf, is it, Tanya, my love?”

In the video, Maya darted into the room then, but stood staring, with her thumb in her mouth, at the stranger.

“Now who would this be?” Rooney asked. He bent down to touch the child, but Maya cowered behind Tanya’s legs.

“My daughter.” Tanya’s mood changed to belligerent. “What do you want, Rooney?”

“She’s darling,” Rooney said. “And a dead ringer for her beautiful mother. Who’s the father?”

Tanya, looking flustered, backed away. “… go now. Evan’s spying … finds out a man came to see me, he’ll use it against me in court.”

Rooney was circling the room. His next statement was so quiet the microphone didn’t pick it up. Joe and Letty leaned closer to the laptop, straining to hear.

“… loot. I want what’s mine, Tanya.”

He clamped his hand around her wrist, but she jerked it away from him. “Loot? You and Chuck took it all and left me behind, holding the bag.”

Rooney said something else inaudible. He stood inches away from Tanya, his jaw tight with tension.

“Goddammit, I told you, I don’t have it!” Tanya screamed.

Maya began to cry. “No, Mommy!” She clawed at Tanya’s leg and raised her arms to be picked up, but Tanya ignored her daughter’s cries.

Rooney said something, but Maya’s howls drowned it out. She ran toward the stuffed elephant, and from the dizzying camera angles it was obvious she was running up the stairs, dangling Ellie by one ear.

Letty closed the laptop and looked at Joe DeCurtis.

“A high school kid managed to make the audio work—when the FBI couldn’t?” he asked, shaking his head. “I don’t know whether to be frightened or annoyed.”

“You know what this means, Joe,” Letty said. “Rooney’s here, and he’s looking for that loot. He seemed pretty convinced Tanya had it. How much are we talking about?”

Joe rubbed his jaw. “We estimated it could be close to a hundred and fifty thousand dollars’ worth of stuff that they bought here. We do know they’d worked the gold-and-jewelry-buying scam over in Orlando and down in Lauderdale before moving up here when the cops there started investigating them. We searched the unit Tanya and Rooney were living in at the time. We found some odds and ends of sterling silver, a couple gold coins, but nothing of any real value, and definitely no cash. Chuck was living in the efficiency after my mom kicked him out, and we searched that too. Tanya swore up and down that she didn’t know Rooney and Chuck were swindlers, and that they’d actually victimized her.”

“You didn’t believe her?”

“Hell no,” Joe said. “I know she’s your sister and she’s dead and all, but I don’t think anybody ever victimized Tanya Carnahan. Unfortunately, she was able to sweet-talk an assistant district attorney into dropping the charges against her. The minute that happened, she was gone. And of course, she skipped out on her motel bill.”

“Oh God. I’m sorry…”

“It was almost worth it,” Joe said. “To get that son of a bitch Chuck away from Ava. If he’d hung around any longer, he would have bled her dry.”

Letty’s thoughts immediately strayed to the suitcase hidden under the bed that contained Tanya’s go-bag, and the wad of cash she’d stashed in it. Tanya had claimed it was her savings, but Letty had never really believed her sister had managed to save that much money from her faltering acting career.

Was the cash part of the loot from the gold-and-silver-buying scam? Whose money was it? Should she admit to Joe what she’d been hiding? Her head was starting to throb—either from the wine or the prospect of admitting to the crime of omission.

“Remind me again of how you figured out they were fleecing people?” she asked.

Joe toyed with the plastic lei around his own neck. “One of our guests here—a regular—pulled me aside one night, I think it was after a barbecue. She was mad and at the same time embarrassed, because she’d sold a piece of jewelry she’d inherited—her grandfather’s antique gold watch—to Rooney, who’d told her it was only worth the value of the gold, maybe three thousand dollars. Later on, after she confided to a friend what she’d done, the friend helped her look up the value of the watch on eBay. Turns out, it was a rare collector’s piece that was worth at least ten times what Rooney paid her. She didn’t dare tell her husband what she’d done, because the guy’s a real tight-ass, but the friend convinced her to tell me about the way she’d been fleeced.”

Letty considered the roster of Murmuring Surf regulars she’d come to know over the past month. “You’re talking about Trudi Maples, right?”

Joe’s silence convinced her she was right.

“I can just see Merwin throwing it up to her about getting ripped off,” Letty said. “He’d never let her live it down.”

“I can neither confirm nor deny,” Joe said. “I promised the victim that I’d keep her identity confidential.”

“Tanya told Rooney that she didn’t have the money. She pointed the finger at Chuck,” Letty said.

“And now Chuck’s dead,” Joe said, his expression grim.

Maya came skipping in from the bedroom, holding a piece of paper with a childish stick-figure drawing of a girl with long flowing hair and something approximating a grass skirt. “Here’s Moana, Mr. Joe,” she said, flourishing her picture.

“This looks just like you,” Joe exclaimed. He glanced at his watch. “Uh-oh. We’re late. If we don’t get over to the rec room this minute, Ava’s gonna be the one putting out a BOLO.”

“Joe?”

“You’re still worried about Rooney,” he said flatly.

Letty nodded toward Maya, who was standing in front of the mirror on the closet door, preening at her reflection as she plonked at the ukulele strings. “Do you think he knows he’s her father?”

He rubbed his jaw again. “I don’t think it’s a coincidence that he ran into you at Publix.”

“You don’t think he’d try…”

“No! I know this guy, Letty. He’s not looking to become Father of the Year. I think he’s here for the money. Maybe Chuck told him where to find it—before his unfortunate accident.”

Letty shuddered and pulled the blouse tighter around her shoulders.

“I think you need to think about moving, at least until we track Rooney down and lock him up for good.”

“Where would I go? Do you know what first and last month’s rent, plus utility deposits, cost for an apartment around here? I do, and I don’t have that kind of money. Besides, what would Ava say? Part of my deal with her is living on the property makes me accessible any time she needs me.”