BooksBarbecue
Back The Newcomer
Chapters (71)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright Notice
  3. Dedication
  4. 1
  5. 2
  6. 3
  7. 4
  8. 5
  9. 6
  10. 7
  11. 8
  12. 9
  13. 10
  14. 11
  15. 12
  16. 13
  17. 14
  18. 15
  19. 16
  20. 17
  21. 18
  22. 19
  23. 20
  24. 21
  25. 22
  26. 23
  27. 24
  28. 25
  29. 26
  30. 27
  31. 28
  32. 29
  33. 30
  34. 31
  35. 32
  36. 33
  37. 34
  38. 35
  39. 36
  40. 37
  41. 38
  42. 39
  43. 40
  44. 41
  45. 42
  46. 43
  47. 44
  48. 45
  49. 46
  50. 47
  51. 48
  52. 49
  53. 50
  54. 51
  55. 52
  56. 53
  57. 54
  58. 55
  59. 56
  60. 57
  61. 58
  62. 59
  63. 60
  64. 61
  65. 62
  66. 63
  67. Epilogue
  68. Acknowledgments
  69. Also by Mary Kay Andrews
  70. About the Author
  71. Newsletter Sign-up

The Publix bag “boy” leaning against the shopping-cart corral and taking a smoke break was a wizened seventy-something white man dressed in a green apron and wrinkled khaki pants. His name badge said TOMMY. He looked down at the photo Joe offered and nodded.

“I think he’s been in here a couple times lately. He kinda stands out, ya know, dressed like that?”

“Like what?”

“Black shirt and black pants and the ball cap and beard. He reminded me of Zorro.”

“Did you ever see what kind of car he was driving?”

“Nope.” Tommy dropped the cigarette butt into the Styrofoam coffee cup he’d been holding. “He don’t buy much. Maybe a sub sandwich, chips.”

“When was the last time you saw him?” Joe asked.

“He come in here this morning.” The bagger tossed the coffee cup into a nearby trash can. “Sorry. Gotta get back to work.”

“Wait,” Joe said. “How long ago did you see him?”

“Hmmm. We open at eight, it was right after that. You know what? I think he’s using our men’s room to wash up in.”

“What makes you say that?”

“That bathroom gets cleaned and restocked last thing at night. But this morning, right after that guy was in there, a customer complained it was a mess. I went in there, and it looked like someone had taken a shower in the sink. Soap and paper towels all over the place.”

“So maybe he’s living in his car or something,” Joe mused. “No access to a bathroom.”

“Or he sleeps on the beach,” Tommy said. “Until the cops run him off. But that’s mostly young kids doing that around here.”

“Hey, thanks. That’s really helpful,” Joe said. He pulled some bills from his pocket and tried to press them into the bagger’s hand, but the old man shook him off. “Not allowed,” he said.

After he left the shopping center, Joe drove to the Treasure Island police station. He went inside and tapped on the glass separating the desk officer from the lobby.

Serafina Suarez looked up from her computer monitor and smiled. “DeCurtis! Where’ve you been? We missed you.”

“Just taking some comp time,” Joe said. “Can you do me a favor, Fina? I’m interested in recent arrests or citations for public vagrancy. My suspect is white male, late thirties to forties.”

“How recent?” she asked.

“The past week.”

Suarez started typing. “How are things at the motel? Your mom doing okay?”

“She’s fine, thanks,” Joe said.

“My aunt and uncle loved staying there this past fall. They want to come back next year too. And they really appreciated the friends and family discount.”

“Tell ’em to book early,” Joe said.