Page 38 of The Newcomer
“Never mind,” Oscar said. “Should have known you’d side with those Feldmans. It’s a women’s-lib thing, right? Feminazis and all that?”
Her smile disappeared. “You should probably go now, Oscar. Before I decide to let Ava know you were smoking outside my room again last night.” She pulled out her new phone and showed him the photo she’d snapped through her window, of a man matching Oscar Jensen’s exact profile, leaning against the veranda column, letting out a long plume of smoke.
He looked at the photo. “You can’t prove that’s me.”
She stood her ground. “Who else?” She went back to staring at the door to unit 2. It was ten thirty and nothing had changed.
Ava had programmed Joe DeCurtis’s number into her phone. She sighed and scrolled through the short list of contacts.
“What are you doing?” Merwin demanded. “Who are you calling?”
“I’m calling Ava’s son, Joe,” she replied.
“The cop? No need to go overboard,” Oscar said, scuttling toward the door. “We’ll discuss this with Ava later.”
When the shuffleboard players were gone, Letty picked up the house phone and dialed the number for unit 2. The phone rang five times with no answer. She hung up, waited five more minutes, and called again. Five more rings.
Shereallydid not want an encounter with the police today, especially Detective Joe DeCurtis.
On her third call, someone in unit 2 picked up. “Who is this?” The man’s voice sounded groggy.
“This is Letty, in the office. Checkout time was thirty minutes ago. I’m going to have to ask you to…”
“Fuck off,” the man drawled. He hung up.
“I tried,” Letty said with a shrug. She called Joe DeCurtis.
“Hi,” she said. “It’s Letty, at the motel? Your mom said I should call.…”
“On my way.”
Fiveminutes later, the white pickup rolled up beside the maroon Impala and the manager’s son got out. He wore a navy polo shirt with POLICE stenciled on the back. He looked over his shoulder at the office, saw her standing at the window, and gave her a thumbs-up.
She watched while he walked around the Impala, peered in the windows, then moved around to the rear of the car, knelt down, brought out his phone, and photographed the license plate.
Then he strode to the door of unit 2 and knocked loudly.
When there was no response, he waited another minute, then extracted the heavy flashlight from his belt loop and banged it against the door. Letty could hear his voice from across the courtyard.
“Sir? This is Detective DeCurtis with the Treasure Island Police. The hotel management needs you to vacate this room, immediately.”
She saw the door open a crack, and could see the chain lock. A hairy arm poked out, flipped a bird, and then the door slammed shut again.
“Uh-oh,” she muttered. She looked over at her niece, who was pretending to feed some broken crayons to the stuffed elephant.
“Maya, why don’t you take Ellie into the supply room,” she said, guiding the child by the shoulders. “I saw some empty boxes that would make her a nice bed.”
She pulled out some empty cardboard shipping cartons, and when Maya saw that they were filled with foam peanuts, she gleefully climbed inside with her toy.
Lettywent back to the front office to watch the unfolding drama with a mixture of dread and excitement.
The cop banged on the door of unit 2 again, and she saw the curtains part. A bearded, bare-chested man stared out briefly, and then the curtains closed again.
Joe went back and leaned against the truck. He pulled the two-way radio from his shoulder rig and spoke into it, then walked briskly toward the office, pushing through the glass door.
“What’s going on?” Letty asked nervously.
“Just another low-life scumdog,” Joe said. He walked past her into the back room. “Hi, Maya,” she heard him call. “Playing hide-and-seek?”
