The man dropped his hands to his sides. His shoulders slumped as if he’d been unplugged. Then he turned around. He was balding, with a five o’clock shadow that looked like purple sandpaper. “You got me,” he said, in a whiny nasal voice. “I’m gotten, okay?”

His blue polo shirt stretched over his belly; there were dried white sweat stains in the armpits. His khakis looked shiny at the knees. One of his sneakers had duct tape wrapped around the toes.

“Stay there,” Basil said. “Don’t move.”

“I’m not moving,” the man said.

“Why’d you jump my girlfriend?” Matt snapped.

“I jumped her? No way, man. I bumped into her and got scared out of my socks. I tried to get away. If anything, she jumped me. I would never raise my hand against a woman. I’m a committed pacifist! I don’t know what she told you guys.”

“He didn’t jump me,” Trinity said. “He tried to communicate with me.” She raced up to the man, pointing her camera at his face. “How long have you been dead?”

“He’s not a fucking ghost,” Matt snapped in frustration. “He’s just homeless. He’s a bum. Don’t get too close.”

“You don’t have to call me names,” the guy said, looking genuinely crestfallen. Then he turned to Trinity. “But your boyfriend’s right, sweetheart. I’m no ghost.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Trinity said. “And I know you aren’t a ghost. Ghosts don’t hide under beds.”

Then she sat down on a Scopperloit chair and began to cry.

“Oh, honey,” Ruth Anne said, rushing to her.

“I’m fine,” Trinity said with a sob. “Really, I’m fine.”

“Who are you?” Basil demanded. “You can’t be in here.”

“I’m Carl,” the man said.

“Carl who?”

“I would prefer not to say.”

“Do you have any ID?”

“Are you busting me?” Carl asked.

“I’m not busting you,” Basil said, making air quotes around the word busting. “But I am responsible for this store. How did you get inside?”

“Same way I do every night,” Carl said. “I hang out in the café until closing, then I go to the bathroom around nine thirty and sit in the stall and pull my feet up on the commode whenever the door opens. Your security guys do a terrible job, by the way. You should find a new company.”

Trinity was still sobbing as though she might never stop, and Ruth Anne was gently rubbing her back. Matt stood off to one side, looking awkward.

Basil turned to Amy. “This is the guy you saw?”

“I was pretty far away,” she said. “But I think so.”

“Oh!” Carl exclaimed, as if Amy had just cleared up something that was bothering him. “You’re the gal from this morning. I hope I didn’t scare you. I thought for sure you would call security.”