'Three o'clock, nanny with a stroller.'
McCaskey glanced over as the young woman passed. She had Asian features. She was dressed in a Georgetown University sweatshirt and jeans and was absently rocking a charcoal-colored Maclaren stroller with a hood.
'I don't think so,' McCaskey said.
'Darrell, there's no baby in the stroller,' Maria said.
She put the ivory-colored chalk back in the wooden carrying case.
'I know,' he replied, still pretending to talk in the phone. 'There's a shopping bag in the stroller. It's probably got everything she owns.
Look at the laces of her Adidas. Broken and knotted, hole on one side.
The foam handle of the stroller is torn. It was probably discarded.
She's homeless.'
'Or pretending to be,' Maria said as she selected a navy blue stick to lay in shadows.
'It's possible,' McCaskey agreed. He looked toward the lawn beyond the path. 'I'm more concerned about the guy sitting on the grass with the laptop.'
'The man in the windbreaker?'
'Yes.'
'Why?' Maria asked. 'His back is to the mailbox.'
'But the web cam is not,' McCaskey said. 'He could be teleconferencing, or he could be watching the mailbox.'
Just then the mail carrier pulled up in his small local-haul truck. A lanky, blond-haired young man emerged carrying a white plastic bin and stepped over to the mailbox. McCaskey continued to talk on the phone as March moved his cart so he was closer to the mail truck. The carrier did not seem to notice. He knelt, opened the front panel with a key from the ring on his belt, and slowly scooped the contents into the container. He appeared to be looking for something. When he found it, he swept the rest of the mail in quickly and shut the box.
Evidently, that was all March needed. He stepped from his cart and intercepted the mail carrier. McCaskey saw March show the carrier his badge, but he could not hear what was being said. The carrier made a disbelieving, then angry face and shook his head. March was insistent as he got on his cell phone and made a call. He was summoning his backup.
The mail carrier moved toward the truck, still holding the bin. March grabbed his arm and said something.
'Hey, will someone call a cop!' the carrier shouted.
The man with the laptop turned. So did the homeless woman. The two of them started to rise.
'Are both of them in on this?' Maria said.
'I don't know,' her husband said. 'Stay here.' He got up and walked toward them. He was still holding the phone to his ear.
The man with the laptop had folded it away, slipped it into a shoulder bag, and also walked toward the mail truck. The woman was quickly pushing her stroller toward March. Other people stopped and watched from a distance.
The carrier attempted to pull his arm free. He yanked harder than March's grip required, upending both the carrier and the bin. The woman with the stroller started running to where mail had been strewn across the street. McCaskey also rushed over. He got there first and, crouching, began pulling mail toward him. Most of it was picture postcards along with a handful of letters. He was looking for an oversized envelope or small parcel with a South Pacific or Far Eastern address. He found one, a fat manila envelope with a Kuala Lumpur address. McCaskey pulled over other letters so this one did not seem to be all that interested him. Maria, sitting close by, was watching the homeless woman.
The mail carrier hurried over. 'Thank you, sir. I'll take those,' he said, reaching for the letters.
'And I'll take those,' March said as he leaned over the mail carrier and wrapped a thick hand around his key ring. He flipped the small metal latch and pulled it free. The ignition key to the truck was on the ring.
