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

They walked out to the parking lot together, pausing beside DeCurtis’s pickup truck. “Are you headed back to the motel?” Joe asked. Vikki pushed a strand of dark hair behind her ear. “No. I gotta drive back over to Tampa. The SAC is coming into the office, and Garcia and I are gonna brief him before we get started writing reports. Then I’ve gotta get on another call with Cheryl Shapiro. I think they’re setting up a press conference for midweek to announce the grand jury indictments.”

“Busy day,” Joe said. He pulled out his phone and looked at the call log. “My chief wants to be briefed on what all went down out at the beach this afternoon. Apparently, ‘concerned citizens’ have been calling in to report a police shooting. And I need to get back to that sheriff down in Immokalee and let him know we’ve got Rooney in custody.”

“I’ll see you around then,” Vikki said. She turned to go, but changed her mind. “One thing. Back there, in the ER? I kept waiting for you to break the news to Wingfield that he isn’t really Maya’s father. But you didn’t.”

“It’s not my story to tell,” Joe said. “I’m gonna let you feds make that call. Or Letty.”

Vikki Hill studied his face. “You feel sorry for him, don’t you? Even after everything you know about what a cold, murdering piece of shit he is, you feel sorry for Evan Wingfield, because he’s eventually going to find out that Maya isn’t his.”

“Me?” He unlocked the truck, opened the door, and climbed behind the wheel. “Nah.”

She watched him drive away. “Sure you do,” she said, under her breath.

60

JOE TEXTED HER AS HE was leaving the pizza place.

Dinner?

He waited a few minutes, tempted by the smell of hot yeasty crust, tomato sauce, and garlic. Instead of opening the box, he drove over to the Murmuring Surf and parked in the lot.

It was after nine, but he could see lights shining from inside her unit.

His phone finally pinged.

Can’t. Maya’s asleep.

Perfect. Be there in five. Bringing wine.

They ate the pizza on paper plates on the patio and Letty poured the red wine into juice glasses. She left the sliding glass door open in case Maya called out for her.

By unspoken mutual agreement neither of them discussed the day’s earlier events.

Letty refilled her wineglass and sipped appreciatively. She plucked a blossom from the vine covering the patio fence and inhaled the scent. “You know, I’m gonna miss this place.”

Joe reached for her hand. “Then why leave? Wingfield’s headed back to New York as soon as the extradition papers come through. Rooney’s locked up. You’re safe now. Maya’s happy. You’ve got a job. My mom loves you. Everybody here loves you.”

She raised one eyebrow. “Everybody?”