Мэри Эндрюс - The Newcomer

Letty curled up next to him on the sofa. “Was she freaked out?”

He shrugged. “Honestly? She’s got that loaded pistol on her nightstand and I think she thinks she’s Annie Oakley. Whatever.”

“What about Vikki? Where’d she go? She’s surely not staying in the efficiency tonight, right?”

“Hell, no. We rigged up a temporary padlock on her room and she’s bunking in Isabelle’s room tonight.” He ran his hand through his hair. “Although, given what we’ve got on our plates for tomorrow, I don’t know how much sleep any of us will get tonight.” He looked at her hopefully. “Okay if I crash on your sofa tonight? I promise to keep my clothes on.”

“Of course.” She kissed him, then got up to fetch a pillow and blanket from the bedroom.

“I just had a thought. Maybe Rooney found what he was looking for when he trashed the efficiency. Maybe he found the loot and he’s long gone. Right?”

“Let’s hope so.”

While she was in the bedroom, Letty checked the window locks. She found a folded blanket on the top shelf of the closet, along with an extra pillow. By the time she returned to the living room, Joe was slumped sideways on the sofa, softly snoring. She slipped the pillow under his head, swung his legs onto the sofa, covered him with a blanket, and tiptoed out of the room, turning off the lights as she went.

47

MIDNIGHT HAD A GLEAMING BLACK coat, olive-green eyes, dainty white paws, and a white-tipped nose. And four kittens. At dawn, she decided it was time to move. She caught the smallest, most troublesome kitten by the nape of the neck and set out across the parking lot. She skirted the cars and passed along the motel breezeway. At the end of the concrete walkway, she stepped into the dew-drenched grass.

Ahead was a tall palm tree encircled by a thicket of pink blooming oleanders and asparagus ferns. The ferns were bracketed by a circle of large, dusty green bromeliads with sawtooth-edged leaves and ruby-red throats. She darted beneath the thicket, deposited the kitten in a nest of pine needles, and set off again, back to the drainage culvert.

The other kittens were mewing hungrily. When the largest one, a male, tried to nurse, she batted it with her paw and picked it up in her mouth. She was crossing the parking lot again when a silver sedan with faded paint and bald tires pulled into the only vacant spot, the handicapped parking space in front of the breezeway. When the engine idled, then stopped, she darted away, hiding in the shadows beneath a van. After a moment, she slunk out and made her way back to the palm tree and her new nest.

She deposited the second kitten beside its sister and paused long enough for both kits to nurse briefly.

Everything was still and dark when Maya awoke. Her aunt was sleeping on her side facing away from the bedroom door, an arm flung across her face. Maya opened the door and went out to the kitchen, where she stealthily removed a juice box and bag of goldfish crackers from the bottom cupboard.

Mr. Joe was asleep on the sofa and she could not find the remote control for the television. So she crept past him, juice box and crackers tucked under her arm. The sliding-door lock was stubborn. But Maya was a big girl now. She set her snacks on the floor and stood on her tiptoes, her tongue tipped out in concentration until she heard the metallic snick as the lock disengaged.

She slid the heavy glass door aside, picked up her snack, and stepped out onto the patio. The bricks felt cool and damp beneath her bare feet. She pushed the straw into the juice box and took a sip. She was about to open the package of goldfish when she saw something moving beyond the patio gate.

It was Midnight! And she had something in her mouth. A small, wriggling black something. It was a kitten. Maya watched while the cat darted beneath the prickly green bushes. She waited. She opened the bag of crackers and chewed, ignoring the bright orange crumbs that sprinkled down the front of her pajama top. She took a suck of apple juice, then crammed the rest of the crackers into her mouth, dropping the bag onto the bricks.

When Midnight emerged from the bushes without the kitten, Maya smiled. The cat scampered away without looking back. Maya unlatched the patio gate and stepped into the thick, wet grass. It tickled her ankles.

All was quiet outside. She could still see a sliver of moon in the morning sky. She could hear the waves washing onto the beach just beyond the sand dune, and a line of pelicans, those funny birds with the big beaks with grocery bags attached, flew past, low along the surf line.

The world was asleep. She tiptoed toward the palm tree. As she drew closer, Maya could hear soft mewing noises. She got down on her hands and knees and crawled the last few inches until her nose was inches from the circle of shrubbery.

The sawtoothed leaves scratched at her face, but she inched forward. She saw something black and furry curled up in a nest of pine needles. Kittens! There were two kittens. They mewed and wriggled. Midnight had left the kittens all alone. Maya reached out and touched one on its little pink nose. A tiny pink tongue darted out and licked her hand. She giggled with delight. She scratched the kitten’s soft black ears and it mewed again.

Her hand was closing on the kitten when she heard footsteps crunching in the wet grass. An arm wrapped itself around her waist and abruptly jerked her up and away. Just before a hand clamped over her mouth she saw the man. It was the man from the store. He had scary blue eyes and a black baseball cap. He smiled. “Good morning, Maya.”

Joe awoke with a start, and for a moment, he couldn’t figure out where he was. The room was still dark. He yawned and stretched, then remembered. This was Letty’s place. He’d fallen dead asleep on the sofa. He stood up and switched on the lamp on the end table and looked around the room and smiled briefly at the memory of what had happened earlier on this very same sofa.

He checked his phone. Nearly seven. He needed to pee, but didn’t dare walk into the bedroom for fear of waking Letty and Maya. He went over to the sliding glass door and frowned when he saw that it was slightly ajar. Had Letty left it open the night before? They’d been out on the patio, and then things had gotten intense and they’d come back inside.

Dammit, he’d have to remind her again about keeping everything locked up. He slid the door open wider, went out to the patio, and looked out at the horizon. The morning sky looked clear, the water calm. Joe hoped it was a good omen for the day ahead.

He hadn’t wanted to worry Letty, but this whole scheme with Wingfield could go very wrong, very fast, with just the slightest misstep from any of them. He scowled, considering all the terrifying possibilities, but forced himself to put aside his worries. Vikki Hill was a seasoned federal agent. She would have backup, and he would have backup. And finally, Letty would be freed from the cloud that had been hanging over her head.

Joe yawned again, opened the gate, walked outside, and after making sure he couldn’t be seen by any early-morning beach walkers, relieved himself behind a dune.

When he went back inside he locked the slider and went in search of coffee. He found a box of tea bags in the cabinet, but no sign of coffee. Letty’s room key was on the end table. He let himself out of the unit, saw that the lights were on in the office, and smiled. If the lights were on at his mother’s place, he knew the coffee would be hot. He locked the door behind him and went in search of caffeine.

“You’re up early,” Ava observed. She was standing behind the reception desk, rummaging through a pile of room keys. They were the old-school variety, with large diamond-shaped plastic tags bearing the Murmuring Surf logo and room numbers.