Page 124 of The Newcomer
“Just how much loot are we talking about?” Vikki asked. “I thought these were a couple of low-rent grifters.”
“It was just a guess, but we estimated around a hundred and fiftythousand dollars. But really there’s no telling. The operation they set up here at the Murmuring Surf was at least the third we know of, after similar operations around the state. But according to Trudi Maples, the watch they bought from her—just for the value of the gold—turns out to have been worth thirty thousand dollars.”
Letty had been pondering the “why” of Rooney tossing the efficiency. “When I first got here, there weren’t any available rooms. But Ava offered to let me clear out the unit that she’d been using for storage. It was full of junk—stuff that the maintenance man was supposed to have thrown out or had hauled away, but instead he just shoved it in the efficiency.”
“And the alleged maintenance man was Chuck Sheppard?” Vikki guessed.
“Yeah.” Joe’s phone dinged and he looked down. “Shauna just pulled in.”
Lettypaced around her living room. She could see the open door of the efficiency if she stood in the breezeway. She saw Joe and Shauna and Vikki standing outside the unit, saw the patrol officer crouch down and examine the doorknob with her flashlight. She saw the flashlight beam sweeping over the roof of the unit, nodded silently as Joe and Shauna walked past, speaking in low voices. She heard Shauna speaking into her radio.
Eventually, she went inside, and after checking on Maya, and re-latching the patio door, she fixed herself a cup of tea. She opened her laptop and rewatched the video clip with the amplified sound that Sierra had sent her, hoping to find some clue she’d overlooked.
Shortly after two, she heard a discreet tap at the door. She unlocked it and Joe walked inside and flopped wearily onto the sofa.
“Anything?”
“No. If it’s Rooney, the guy’s a damn Houdini. I even got a ladder and went up on the roof. We walked the beach, thinking maybe he’s camping in the dunes or something, but there’s no sign of him.”
Joe’s dark hair was damp with sweat and his eyes were ringed with dark circles. “Jesus! I can’t stand the idea that creep could still be prowling around here. And now he’s got Vikki’s gun. I went up to Mom’s and told her about the break-in at the efficiency.”
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 BLACKcoat, 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.
Everythingwas 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.
