Carter did not need to respond. It was apparent she was very aware that others would be concerned or even downright hostile to the efforts of the shelter.
“We don’t allow anyone to gather early. There’s actually a police officer who walks behind the shelter to discourage people from coming too soon. Once the line forms, we have several volunteers with walkie-talkies who make sure everyone is where they need to be. But it is essential that the lunch line move as quickly as possible. We don’t want loitering, and we don’t want trash everywhere. So, we do what we can to make all of that happen.”
“I notice Enrico is in charge of the bags with peanut butter.”
“Yes. We want to keep those separate in case someone has a peanut allergy. If someone would like to request a peanut butter sandwich, they let the volunteer with the walkie-talkie know, and when they come up in line, Enrico or one of the other volunteers hands it to them.”
“One last question, please. The ongoing volunteers who hand out the bags—how many of those are regular, here all the time?”
“Well, Enrico is an employee of the shelter but can’t be there every time. George loves to volunteer, and he’s here most of the time. There’s another man who’s started volunteering each time. Lewis is his name. He helps hand out the bags.”
“Do you know Lewis’ last name?”
“Yes. It’s Lewis Washington.”
24
Stalking into the workroom, Carter headed straight to the evidence board. While Evan watched, he wrote ‘Lewis Washington’ on the board, drawing a line with a question mark between the new name and Beth. Turning, he said, “One of the volunteers that handed out the bag to the man I was following was Lewis Washington.”
“Fuck, related to Beth?”
“Don’t know yet. I wanted to interview Enrico again, but as soon as I heard about Lewis, I wanted to investigate.” He plopped down in his chair at his desk, opening his laptop. Glancing up, he noted Evan’s smirk. “What have you got?”
“Thought you were never going to ask.” Leaning forward, he said, “I looked at the outside security camera of Ever Hope and managed to isolate a picture of the guy in the camo jacket. He never looked straight at the camera, but I got a good enough picture that I can circulate it.”
“Got a hit?”
Chuckling, he said, “Looks like you can keep it all in the family. Your future brother-in-law, Kyle, is on his way over.”
As if on cue, heavy steps were heard approaching, and Kyle rounded the corner coming into the room. Offering chin lifts, he got right to business.
“Evan sent a picture looking for information. I know we don’t have a good facial, but from what I can tell, this guy is Levi Marks. Lives underneath the Thirty-first bridge, in the Cardboard Cottages.”
The Cardboard Cottages was a moniker slapped onto a section under one of the bridges in town near the harbor warehouses. For several years, the homeless had been putting up cardboard boxes purloined from the warehouse dumps. It was not much, but the boxes created a small shelter from the outside elements.
Kyle stepped closer to the evidence board, staring at it before turning and looking back at the other detectives. “What’s interesting is the last time I saw him, he was with this man right here.”
Carter stared as Kyle pointed to the picture of Rocky Stallone. Jaw tight, he said, “Fuckin’ puzzle pieces are starting to line up, but they’re still not falling into place.” Looking at Kyle, he said, “I need to find Levi.”
Kyle grinned. “Considering I’ve been spending time with some of the residents of the Cardboard Cottages and know where a lot of them hang out during the day, you want to ride with me?”
Meeting Kyle’s grin, he said, “Absolutely.”
Thirty minutes later, Carter looked out over the cardboard city underneath the bridge. When he was a cop, this was not the section of the city he had been assigned to and had had no reason to be here in a couple of years. “It looks like a fuckin’ war zone,” he muttered. “No wonder Rocky found an empty row house to sleep in. It would have been a helluva lot safer than this place.”
His gaze drifted over the cardboard structures that had been taped together, creating rooms. A few people were milling about, several standing next to fire pits, their hands extended as they tried to stay warm. Passing by the first couple of boxes, he could see others sleeping, or maybe strung out on whatever drug made their lives bearable.
Kyle walked straight to one of the barrels holding a fire. A few men backed away, but one man stayed, his gaze steady as the detectives approached.
“Looking for Levi Marks.”
The man dropped his gaze to the fire, his fingers poking out through the ends of his gloves as he wiggled them closer to the flames. Carter remained quiet, not willing to interrupt Kyle’s domain nor fuck up whatever relationship he had with the people here.
“Last I heard he had a woman. Shacking up at her place.”
“You got a location for me?” Kyle asked.
Keeping his eyes on the fire, the man said, “You going to make it worth my while?”
“Don’t I always?”
The silence stretched, and Carter wondered if the man was going to give.
“Somewhere on thirty-fifth near the harbor.”
Kyle remained silent but reached his hand out and the two men shook. It was so smooth, even Carter almost missed the handoff. Following Kyle’s initiative, he backed away and the two detectives headed away from the bridge.
Once inside Kyle’s truck, he said, “Can’t thank you enough. I owe you, man.”
Kyle chuckled. “No marker. Hell, I’ll do this just for you having Tara
