“Oh, she’s the newcomer. Been here two, three weeks. Her and the little girl. Just showed up out of the blue, looking for a place to stay, so Ava moved her into the efficiency, even gave her a job working in the office.”

“Where’d she come from?” Vikki asked.

“I think maybe she said New Jersey? She’s all right. Mostly keeps to herself. But it caused kind of a stir, like I said, because it wasn’t really fair, Ava giving her that room when it should have been Merwin’s. I think Ava felt sorry for her, what with the little kid and everything.”

“I see.” Vikki nodded. “Well, nice to meet you. Guess I’ll go up to the room now.”

The pizza at the joint from down the street, she begrudgingly admitted to herself, was half decent. Nice crisp crust, definitely homemade sauce. Who knew they had good pizza in Florida? She was eating a slice, sitting in the chair by the window, watching the happy hour under the palm tree. She figured the median age of the congregants at seventy-five. No sign of anyone who could be Letty Carnahan, or of the kid.

At seven thirty, her phone rang. She smiled and answered.

“Officer DeCurtis. Thanks for getting back to me.”

“Sorry for the delay. What’s this about?”

“A woman named Scarlett Carnahan. She calls herself Letty. Do you know her?”

There was an extended silence on the other end of the line. While she waited, Vikki picked a pepperoni off the last slice and nibbled at it.

“Why are you asking?”

“She’s a fugitive. Wanted for questioning in the murder of a woman in New York, and the abduction of her child. The victim was her own sister.”

Another long silence. “You flew down here from New York today and checked into my mother’s motel a couple hours ago, right?”

It was Vikki’s turn to be surprised. She didn’t much like the sensation.

“How’d you know that?”

“I make it my business to know who’s staying at the Murmuring Surf. Ever since the incident with Declan Rooney. Your message didn’t mention the fact that you were coming down here.”

“It was a spur-of-the-moment decision. So, when can we talk?”

“There’s a bar just down the beach from the Surf. Called the Ka-Tiki.”

“For real?” Vikki asked. “Is the bartender named Don Ho?”

“I can meet you there in an hour,” DeCurtis said. “I’m wearing a red Atlanta Braves T-shirt and blue board shorts. How will I know you?”

“I’ll be the one not in a Hawaiian shirt,” Vikki said. “See you then.”

Maya held out a handful of tiny red cherry tomatoes. “Look, Letty!” She crammed one in her mouth, the juice oozing down her chin. “I picked them!”

“They’re yummy, right?” her aunt asked.