Page 71 of No Offense

John pointed at the phone receiver he was holding to hisear.We have him,he mouthed. Aloud, he said, “So where are you, Mrs. Tifton?”

“I’m at 24 Hour Fitness,” Mrs. Tifton whispered. “I don’t normally work out here, but I might change gyms, because they were very nice just now about letting me bring my dog in—you met my dog, didn’t you, Sheriff? My dog, Daisy?”

“I did meet your dog,” John said, while scrawling24 Hour Fitnesson a pad near his phone and holding it up for Marguerite to see. She nodded, then spoke quietly into her shoulder radio. “Your dog, Daisy, is lovely.”

“She is, isn’t she? Anyway, I was walking Daisy this morning, like I usually do, and thought I’d stop by the Cuban coffee place, because they make the best café con leches, don’t you think?”

“Of course.” On the pad, John wrote,NO SIRENS. DO NOT SPOOK HIMand showed it to Marguerite. She nodded and again spoke quietly into her shoulder radio.

“Well, I was there ordering my coffee, and who do I see but this boy, also ordering coffee, and he starts petting my dog—everyone loves to pet my dog because she’s just so cute, if I do say so myself. And I think to myself, ‘Well, this boy looks just like the boy from the photo in the paper this morning.’ Only he’s wearing a baseball hat, maybe as a disguise, but I think, ‘Well, that’s not a very good disguise, because you can still see all the tattoos and the ear thingies.’ And do you know what, Sheriff? I could smell him. And this boy smelled exactly like the hooded shirt you all found at my house! Not only that, but do you know what he said to me?”

“I do not,” John said.

“He notices me looking at him and he says, ‘I bet you’re thinking I’m that guy from the paper today.’ Well, I couldn’t have been more shocked, because that’s exactly what I was thinking! And I said to him, ‘As a matter of fact, I do. You know that boy robbed me and also vandalized my library.’ And he laughed and said, ‘Oh, that was your library? I thought it was the people’s library.’ And I said, ‘It is, but I’m the person who donated all the money to renovate it.’ And he said, ‘Well, thank you for that. We need more libraries in this world. I’m sorry my friends and I did that to your library. But you know it technically belongs to the people, and we’re the people, so we have the right to do what we want.’ And so of course I said, ‘Young man, respectfully, I disagree.’”

John could feel himself beginning to sweat, even though he kept the air-conditioning at the sheriff’s department—as opposed to his home—at a strict seventy degrees. He was clutching the phone so tightly, he thought it might break in his hand.

“And he has the nerve to smile at me and say, ‘Well, you’re not going to turn me in, are you?’ And do you know, Sheriff, I was so scared—I mean, he scared me! Something in that smile! And his eyes—like he was dead inside. So I said, ‘Of course not. You’re kind to dogs, so how bad can you be?’ Because he was standing right there! Petting my dog! He could have broken little Daisy’s neck! What else could I do?”

“You did exactly the right thing, Mrs. Tifton,” John saidinto the phone. Covering the mouthpiece, he said to Marguerite, “How many?”

“We’ve got one car in the area, two on the way. The one in the area should be there any second.”

“Who is it?”

“Martinez.”

“Good.” To Mrs. Tifton, he said, “So how did you end up at the gym, ma’am?”

“Well, I figured I should follow him, see where he’s staying.” John almost rolled his eyes. No wonder the widow and Molly Montgomery got along so well. The two of them had both read way too many detective novels. “And it turns out, it’s the gym.”

Of course. Of course it was. Beckwith could rent a locker for his stuff, have all the hot showers and clean towels and soap he needed, get in a good workout, and probably even sleep there in some dark space if there was no one else around—and if the night staff was female or gay, he could charm them into letting him stay, depending on how susceptible they were to his charms—all for only twenty dollars a day. It was so much cheaper than a hotel room and so much more convenient than crashing in some vacant house or building.

John could have kicked himself for not having thought of it before.

“And you’re sure he’s there now, Mrs. Tifton?”

“Well, I’m watching him right now on the elliptical—Oh, there’s a sheriff’s deputy coming in—did you send him?”

“I did. Listen, Mrs. Tifton, I want you to stay out of the way. You’ve done an absolutely amazing thing, but I can’t afford to let you get hurt.”

“Don’t you worry about me, Sheriff. I’m a tough old bird. Ooh, your deputy is arresting the boy! He’s putting handcuffs on him!” Mrs. Tifton wasn’t bothering to whisper anymore. “I can’t wait to tell all of my friends!”

“Tell them what, Mrs. Tifton?”

“That Daisy and I caught the High School Thief, of course!”

“Neither can I, Mrs. Tifton,” John said, feeling better than he’d felt in a long time. “Neither can I.”

Chapter Twenty-Five

Molly

“Oh, Tabby.”

The two people standing in the doorway to Tabitha’s hospital room could only be her parents. Her mother even looked like her a little—but with a more stylish haircut, highlights, and decidedly inappropriate clothing for Little Bridge: a wool sweater set with twill trousers and designer boots.

“Mom?” Tabitha seemed less happy and more stunned to see them.