Chapters (71)
“Just another low-life scumdog,” Joe said. He walked past her into the back room. “Hi, Maya,” she heard him call. “Playing hide-and-seek?”
“I’m playing house with Ellie,” Maya said.
“Great idea. You guys stay in there, okay?”
He emerged from the office with a pair of lethal-looking bolt cutters, and stopped at the desk again to pick up what Letty knew was the master key to every unit in the motel.
“What now?”
“Just checking to see the name of the dude I’m fixing to arrest,” Joe said. He flipped through the pages of the reservations book, ran a finger down a column of handwritten names, and rolled his eyes. “Mr. Benjamin Dover,” he muttered. “Real cute. Dammit, Ava. I bet they paid with cash, so she didn’t even ask for ID.”
“Should I be worried?” Letty asked.
“No,” Joe said. “Mr. Dover is the one who should be worried. That Impala was stolen a week ago from a truck stop in Ocala. I just called for a tow truck and a backup unit. Looks like Mr. and Mrs. Dover will be checking out of the Murmuring Surf and into the Graybar Hotel.”
14
JOE USED HIS FLASHLIGHT TO knock on the door of unit 2 again. He waited a moment and announced himself again.
“Sir? This is the Treasure Island police. This is your second warning. I need you to vacate this room immediately or face arrest for trespassing.”
Letty stood just outside the office, irresistibly drawn toward the unfolding drama.
The door opened a crack with the chain lock engaged. “Fuck off,” the man yelled. “I paid for this room.”
Joe shoved his booted foot against the door, picked up the bolt cutters, snapped the chain, then tossed the tool aside and pushed the door all the way open.
“Oh God,” Letty breathed. She glanced back into the office, toward the door to the supply room, reassured that Maya was still safely ensconced in her cardboard playhouse.
Joe disappeared into the room, leaving the door ajar. She heard sounds of a struggle, shouted curses, the splintering of wood, then a woman’s shrill scream. “Leave him alone!”
Letty clutched the phone in her hand. Should she call 911? Where were the backup unit and the tow truck he’d called for?
A moment later, the door opened, and Joe pushed the occupant of unit 2 out into the blazing midday sunlight. He was tall, with greasy dark hair that fell to pale, bony shoulders, barefoot, and naked except for a pair of tight-fitting red satin briefs. The man struggled, but ineffectively, because the cop had his hands clamped tightly behind his back.
Joe shoved the squirming suspect facedown onto the hood of the Impala. He drew his handcuffs from his belt and was in the process of fastening them when the woman appeared in the doorway of unit 2.