Page 129 of The Newcomer
Vikki yawned. Over the past forty-eight hours she’d gotten almost no sleep. She sat up and rubbed at her eyes, realizing too late that she’d smeared her mascara. She pulled down the visor and examined her face in the mirror. Puffy, red-rimmed eyes, blotchy skin, sunburned nose. She found a tissue in her purse and tried to repair the damage. She looked like shit. Maybe she’d put in for a couple of vacation days when this was all over. Just find a lounge chair by a pool somewhere, sip some umbrella drinks, and chill.
A black limo pulled up to the curb behind her rental. She twisted in her seat to get a better look and the leather holster clipped inside the waistline of her slacks chafed at the tender skin there.
Vikki had been forced to pull rank on DeCurtis, who hadn’t wanted to return the Glock that Declan Rooney had stolen from her room the night before. But she’d pointed out that the gun hadn’t been fired. He’d reluctantly returned her property.
She pulled out her phone and checked for email or messages. Nothing. She sipped at her second cup of convenience-store coffee. Bad plan to add more fire to the acid pit building up in her belly, but without the caffeine she’d be sleepwalking for sure.
“You there?” DeCurtis’s disembodied voice drifted from the smart watch on her wrist.
“Where else? How’s it going over there? How freaked out are Letty and Maya?”
“Maya’s pretty calm now that she’s got her Happy Meal,” Joe said. “Letty’s getting there. How’s it look where you are?”
“Surreal,” Vikki said. “This Tampa airport is like a Disney invention. So clean. No crowds, no Port Authority buses spewing fumes. I checked in with our field agent, Garcia. He’s inside, wandering back and forth between the gates. No sign of Wingfield. Good, right? I hate surprises.”
“Agreed. Check ya later.”
Shaunaclipped the video camera to the tabletop tripod. “All set,” she said. “Maya? Are you ready?”
The little girl nodded shyly, tucking her chin into her chest. Letty touched her elbow. “Don’t be afraid, ladybug. Okay? I’m right here. Mr. Joe is going to ask you some questions. You’re not in trouble, right? You just look at him and tell him what happened. Can you do that?”
Maya picked up her milkshake and sucked at the straw. “Uh-huh.”
“Say yes or no, please,” Letty reminded her.
Joe scooted his chair next to Maya’s and nodded for Shauna to start recording.
“This is Detective Joe DeCurtis of the Treasure Island Police Department. The date is March 28, 2020. Time is nine twentyA.M.Place of interview is the Murmuring Surf Motel. Subject is a minor female, Maya Wingfield, age four. Subject’s guardian, Letty Carnahan, has given written permission for this interview and is present as a witness, as is Officer Shauna Arthur.”
He looked down at his notes, then back at Maya, giving her an encouraging smile.
“Maya, can you tell me what happened to you this morning? After you woke up?”
Maya nodded.
“Remember? Say yes or no when he asks you a question,” Letty prompted.
“Okay. Can you tell us what you saw when you went out on the patio this morning?”
“I saw Midnight! She was carrying one of her kittens in her mouth. She put the kitten under the tree. She was hiding them.”
“And what did you do then?” he asked.
“Midnight went away. I wanted to see the kitties. I heard them. They went meeewww meeeewwww.” Maya looked over at Letty. “They were missing their mommy. Like I miss my mommy sometimes.”
“What happened next?” Joe asked.
Maya glanced at Letty for reassurance. Letty nodded, and the child took a deep breath.
“I petted the kitty on the nose, and it kissed my finger. And then…”
Her face began to crumple. “And then… the bad man got me.”
“Did he say anything to you?”
She put her finger to her lips. “He said, ‘Shhh, Maya.’”
Letty gripped the edge of the table so hard her knuckles turned white. Her foot tapped nervously on the floor.
