“I thought the dispatcher said two suspects, including a white male. Where’s the other one?”

“He must have booked it while we were tussling with his girlfriend,” Joe said, looking chagrined. “But I don’t think he’ll get too far, considering the dude is barefoot, mostly naked, and handcuffed.” He pointed at the Impala. “That’s their vehicle.”

The cop pointed at Letty. “Who’s this?”

“Officer Shauna Arthur, meet Letty, the newest employee of the Murmuring Surf, who just saved me from suffering a life-threatening blow with a baseball bat upside my cranium.”

Shauna Arthur shook Letty’s hand. “Good work, although with a head as hard as DeCurtis’s, it probably wouldn’t have done that much damage.”

“Nice to meet you,” Letty said, trying to steady the tremor in her voice.

“Hey Joe. Joe. Over here!” A man’s voice called in a loud stage whisper.

Oscar Jensen stood, wide-eyed, in the shady breezeway outside his unit, an unlit cigarette dangling from his lower lip. He gestured wildly with his head, then jabbed his forefinger in the direction of the pair of five-foot-high ornamental concrete jardinieres that flanked the parking lot entrance. In there, he mimed. He’s in there.

DeCurtis nodded his understanding. He and the other cop approached the jardiniere. Officer Arthur jumped without hesitation onto the pedestal and peered down into the urn. “Come out, come out, wherever you are,” she called. She waited a moment, then took out her nightstick, banging it loudly against the side of the concrete urn. “Dude,” she said, her tone conversational. “You’re trapped. Call it a day, man.”

Slowly, the man’s head, then shoulders, then torso rose out of the urn. His face and chest were scraped and bloody, his expression meek. “Don’t shoot, okay?”

“Okay,” Shauna Arthur said. “You’re under arrest. Now haul your ass on out of there.” She looked over at Joe DeCurtis. “What’d you say his name is again?”

“Ben,” Joe said. “Mr. Ben Dover.”

Letty ran-walked back to the office. The phone was ringing but she ignored it. “Maya?” she called, poking her head into the storeroom. She tiptoed over to the large cardboard shipping carton and peeked inside. The child was asleep, head back, lightly snoring.

She went back to the front desk and collapsed into her chair. Her heart was still pounding in her chest. What had she been thinking getting mixed up in that crazy altercation? The blonde outweighed her by at least fifty pounds. She could easily have gotten injured or killed. And then, what would become of Maya?

Letty clutched her throbbing head between both hands. She had to be more careful.

She heard the chimes on the office door. Joe walked past her and into the storeroom. She heard him close the bathroom door, heard water running. When he emerged, he was toweling off his damp face and hands.