Page 137 of The Newcomer
“Whoa. Who are you guys even?” the college kid demanded.
Vikki Hill flashed her badge. “We’re FBI, assholes. And this dude is a murder suspect. Now why don’t you and your friends go film a TikTok dance or something?
“Let’s get him out of here,” she told the men. Garcia and Joe each took an arm and effortlessly dragged Wingfield back toward the road. Vikki Hill picked up the leather messenger bag.
“That’s my property,” Evan protested. “You can’t just confiscate my property.”
“Hold up for a minute,” Vikki said. “He’s got a point. Joe, let’s inventory this douchebag’s property, shall we?”
DeCurtis pulled out his phone and she unzipped the bag as he began to video. She carefully removed a folded black windbreaker and set it on the sand. A pair of matching black track pants were wrapped around something else. She unfolded the fabric and revealed stacks of currency.
Vikki looked up at the cop. “Are you getting this? Looks like the balance of the payment due for a murder contract to me. Should be forty thousand, unless he planned to stiff us.”
“That’s the down payment for a real-estate transaction,” Evan claimed. “And you can’t prove otherwise.”
“Tell it to the judge,” Joe said. “Anything else of interest in that bag?”
Vikki held up a bag of goldfish crackers, a juice box, and then, a pair of pull-up diapers and a child-size pale pink dress with matching pink leggings.
“Those are for my daughter, who was abducted by her aunt, Letty Carnahan, who also murdered my daughter’s mother, beforeillegally transporting her down here to Florida,” Evan said. “If you check the bottom of the bag, you’ll see I have a judge’s order, giving me custody of Maya, and a copy of my daughter’s birth certificate.”
Letty had been standing at the edge of the crowd, unsure of her next move, until she saw Vikki hold up the clothing Evan had packed for Maya.
She’d been with Tanya on what turned out to be their last shopping expedition together. They’d gone into an insanely expensive children’s boutique on Fifth Avenue, and Tanya had picked out the ensemble, from a brand called Maisonette.
She remembered the way Tanya had gushed over the organic cotton dress with the Peter Pan collar and a print of pink and white lollipops. “This’ll be perfect for Maya to wear when we fly out to LA.”
The sight of the lollipop dress made something inside her snap. In a dream state Letty pushed her way through the knot of bystanders, advancing until she was only a few feet away from where Evan Wingfield was being held by Joe and the other man, who she assumed was Garcia, the other FBI agent.
Blood rushed in her ears as she raised the pistol, her hand shaking almost uncontrollably, and pointed it at the man who’d taken her beautiful, broken sister away from Maya.
“Letty?” Joe’s voice was a whisper in her ear. “Come on. You don’t want to do this.”
She was barely cognizant of the sudden stillness that descended over the gawkers.
Evan seemed amused. “What’s this, Letty? You’re gonna shoot me? In front of all these witnesses? I don’t think so,” he taunted. “You’re just like her. You’ve never followed through with anything in your life.”
Letty glanced at Joe, who was still holding his phone.
“I want you to get this on camera, Joe.” She poked Evan in the chest with the barrel of the pistol. “He’s going to tell you how he killed Tanya.”
“Come on, Letty,” Vikki said, her tone even. “Put down the gun. He’s going to prison for life.”
“Tell them what you did to my sister,” Letty repeated.
“Me?” Wingfield looked incredulous. “I gave your sister a career. A home, a kid, clothes, jewelry, everything she ever wanted, until she drank and drugged it all away. That’s what I did for your sister.”
“Liar,” Letty croaked. Her throat was like sandpaper. “You killed Tanya. I know you did. She was getting sober. She was getting better, and she was going to leave and take Maya to California with her, and you told her you’d never let her do that. I heard you threaten her, Evan. And why? You don’t really care about Maya. She’s just another asset as far as you’re concerned.”
Wingfield glanced around at the three cops, who appeared more interested in Letty’s deranged accusations than they were in his safety.
“Your white-trash sister wasn’t fit to raise a gerbil, let alone my daughter,” he said angrily. “And you’re saying Tanya was sober? That’s a joke. She was drinking that morning I went over to her place. Stoned out of her gourd. But you already know that, right? Because after I left, you killed her, and then you grabbed Maya and ran.
“Here’s your murderer, right here,” Wingfield said loudly. “You see her pointing a gun at me? Threatening my life? Why isn’t she in handcuffs instead of me?”
Vikki placed her hand on Letty’s shoulder. “Okay, you’ve said your piece. Come on, Letty. He’s not worth the price of a bullet. Think about Maya. You’re all she’s got left.”
Letty looked at the pistol and then at the FBI agent. Her whole body went limp. Slowly, she uncurled her fingers from the trigger and placed the gun in Vikki’s outstretched hand. In the distance, for the second time that day, they heard the ear-piercing wail of an ambulance.
