“No. She was alone. Just her and the baby. Not even any family to go to. After a while she didn’t even leave the apartment. She just sat there, a young girl like that. Then she moved out.”

“She tell you where she was going?”

“She didn’t say nothing when she moved out. She just up and left, owing me three months’ back rent.”

She leaned forward again to look out the door. This time when she looked, I looked with her. It was catching. I said, “You seem to like her.”

“I do.”

“Even though she stiffed you on the rent.”

She waved the cigarette at me. “She paid it back. Couple of years later I got a letter. There was a U.S. postal money order in it for every nickel and the interest, too. How many people you know would do that?”

“A couple.”

“Then all right. There was a little note in there apologizing and saying she hoped I wouldn’t think bad of her for what she did but it couldn’t be helped.”

“You like her a lot.”

Another nod. More of the Kent.

“You keep the letter?”

She said, “Oh, Lord, I got so much stuff scattered around.”

“Maybe you could take a look.”

She squinted out past the drapes to the street. “I go digging around in the back, I can’t see the front.”

“I’ll watch the front for you.”

“That little sonofabitch is looking to steal something, mark my words. They’re coming back.”

“I’ll watch. I’m good at watching.” I tapped my cheek under my right eye. Watchful.