Chapter 2

 

 

When they next saw Trini they’d finished lunch and tossed away their paper plates. Sandy was prying the lid off a fresh can of paint. Mary was ready to pitch in, but wondered whether she might be needed elsewhere. She was about to walk outside to see what the exterior crew was up to when she spotted Trini coming into the new room from the dining hall.

“How’s it going?” Trini asked, eyeing the bright walls. “Looks good.”

Sandy smiled and said she could get the second coat done by midafternoon.

“Trini—we couldn’t help but hear the voice of that man who was so upset earlier. What’s going on?”

Trini glanced around to be sure no one else was in earshot. For the moment, the three of them were the room’s only occupants. “Another missing item, a family heirloom, and Micah is understandably upset.”

“Sure. Anyone would be.”

“We try to tell them not to bring valuables to the shelter, but most of them don’t own anything of value. And if they do, what else will they do with it? It’s not as if they have safe deposit boxes. If they had a home, they wouldn’t be here.” She ran her fingers through her hair. “We have a small safe in the office behind the reception desk and we always explain that they can leave money or small items in it. We keep it locked.”

“But they don’t do that?” Sandy asked.

“It’s hard. They’ve been on the street and they’re so untrusting. Some even wheel in grocery carts full of, basically, junk and they want to sleep with it right beside their bed. When space permits, we let them.”

Mary spoke up. “You said another missing item. So this has happened before?”

Trini nodded sadly. “Unfortunately. In the past three months, I’d say a dozen items have been reported to me. Micah says it’s his grandfather’s gold pocket watch that’s missing now.”

“The police? Have they been called?”

“At first, I did. They take one look around and see ragged people with hopeless faces, and basically they just roll their eyes and remind me that the missing items can’t be worth much. They take a report, but I don’t get the feeling any effort goes toward recovering the lost items.”

“Do you think it’s another resident stealing these things?” Mary asked. “Who’s new here?”

“Pfft—everyone’s new. You know how it is. Some stay one or two nights, some come and go over the course of months. They aren’t allowed to move in permanently, but some we think of as our ‘regulars’ and others we never see again.”

“A gold watch sounds like something of value.”

“I never saw the timepiece. It could have been a twenty-dollar thinly plated thing from the discount store, for all I know. As I mentioned, they never want to trust us to keep their stuff under lock and key.”

“So Micah has imagined this as an heirloom?”

“I have no idea. It might actually be. People hang onto things until they absolutely have no other choice. One woman had a diamond ring her mother gave her. It wasn’t anything spectacular, but it might have paid the rent on an apartment for a month or two. But she wouldn’t part with it. Said it was the last item of her mother’s, said it reminded her of a time when life was better. I couldn’t push the issue. I was just happy she let us lock it in the safe until she was ready to move on.”

“So sad,” Mary said. She noticed Sandy had tears in her eyes.

Trini took a deep breath. “Look, I’ll let you get back to your painting so you can go home at a reasonable hour. Thanks so much for all you’re doing.”

They both hugged her. “Do you need help again tomorrow?” Sandy asked.

“Sure—if you’d like to hang curtains and set up beds, it would go a long way toward moving people in once we get our occupancy permit.”

By three p.m. the large room glowed with its second coat of pale yellow, and the workers had peeled off layers of clothing, down to T-shirts now as the day had warmed to the mid-70s. Mary had grown up here in the Valley; Decembers that felt like spring seemed normal, but many of the volunteers were snowbirds from the upper Midwest and they reveled in the mild winter temperatures. Those who felt the Christmas season wasn’t complete without snow simply went back home to spend the holidays with family.

“You’ve been kind of quiet,” she said to Sandy as they walked out to the Ford.

“Thinking about what Trini said about the thefts at the shelter. I can’t believe someone would steal from homeless people.”

Mary pulled out of the lot onto Superstition Boulevard and aimed toward the 202 Loop to deliver Sandy back to Phoenix. “They’re not all sweet and honest and simply down on their luck, you know. There’s a strong survival instinct among them. If a shiny object looks like it might bring a few bucks at a pawn shop, and if that money could buy meals for your kids … or, and I hate to say this, a bottle of booze …”

“Maybe so. I just wonder why this rash of thefts all at once. Surely Trini has seen that kind of thing a lot in the years she’s worked here. But she specifically said these thefts of valuables had happened over the last three months.”

Mary nodded. “True.”

“So, what if we were to do a little investigating of our own? She said the police are basically blowing it off. Maybe we could learn something and catch the thief.”

“Sure. Let’s ask around when we go back tomorrow.”

Sandy sat back in her seat, already thinking of questions she would ask Micah if she could catch up with him in the morning. By the time Mary dropped her off she had several things in mind.

“I’ll drive tomorrow, if you’d like,” Sandy said as she got out of the car. They set a time and Mary headed toward her own apartment.

 

* * *

 

“What’s all this?” Mary exclaimed the next day, sliding into the passenger seat. “Looks like Santa’s sleigh exploded in your car.”

Sandy laughed. “The dollar-store folks were happy to see me last night. The gift bags contain little stuff for kids—socks and undies, along with some crayons and puzzles and stuff. I’ll give them to Trini to hand out as she sees fit. The boxes … well, I went on a little sorting-and-cleaning binge among my holiday decorations. You can’t believe how much I’ve accumulated over the years.”

Mary glanced over her shoulder into the back of Sandy’s Mazda. “Uh, yeah, I think I can.”

“So I figured, who needs more than one Christmas tree? A lot of the garland and tinsel is stuff that I used to put up all over the house, back when I was younger and more energetic. I haven’t used it in a few years, so someone else might as well get some enjoyment out of it. I just hope Trini doesn’t see it all as a pain in the neck and a bunch of junk to store away after the holidays.”

“She’ll love it, I’m sure,” Mary said.

Thirty minutes later they pulled up to the front door at Heaven Sent. Trini greeted them and exclaimed over the bounty. “Just put all the decorations in the reception area,” she said. “I’ll stash the presents in the storage closet behind the desk. Won’t it be wonderful to have things for the kids as the big day draws closer?”

After the fourth load of decorations Mary turned to Sandy. “Are you sure all this was just spare stuff from home?”

“Well, okay, I admit it. I called Pen and Gracie when I got home, and they each came up with a bit more.”

Mary laughed as they stacked the last of the boxes. “Well, you certainly were a busy lady last night. And a great organizer!”

The new dorm room at the back of the building revealed its own sort of bounty. Mattresses and box springs were stacked against the walls, and metal bedframes lay on the floor.

“I put a few of the muscular men to work this morning, carrying all this in from the storage building out back,” Trini said. “All we need now is to bolt the frames together and set them up.”

“Easy-peasy,” Mary told her. She had a couple of open-end wrenches at the ready.

“Trini, is there any news about Micah’s missing watch?” Sandy asked, holding two sections of metal frame in place while Mary inserted the bolts.

“Nothing.”

“Were the residents’ possessions searched? Well, if that’s even ethical to do.”

“No, and it’s not really cool to go through people’s things. But I did ask if anyone knew anything about the watch last night when we had most everyone assembled for their dinner of beans and cornbread. No one admitted knowledge of the theft. A few seemed upset that it happened to Micah—he’s been helpful and friendly to everyone.”

“Something as small as a watch or piece of jewelry, wouldn’t the owner keep it on their person all the time?” Mary asked.

“Normally, yes. They’ll wear their rings into the shower, even, but that’s hard to do with a watch, especially an older, non-waterproof one.”

“So, if someone watched until Micah went into the shower …”

“The stalls are two-part—there’s a place to lay clothing on a bench and keep it dry, then the shower itself, with a plastic curtain dividing the two spaces. The outer door to each stall locks for privacy.”

“So it would be unlikely, but not impossible, for someone to sneak through the shower room and rifle through the clothing while the resident is behind the curtain.”

“If they don’t lock the stall door, then I suppose so. I can’t think of any other time they can’t keep an eye on their stuff, unless it’s while they’re asleep. But again, the valuable item would most likely be clenched in hand, hidden under a pillow, or worn pinned to pajamas.”

“We’re assuming another resident is stealing these items,” Mary said. She had completed bolting the four sides of the first bedframe and set it in place. “Maybe outsiders come and go during the day?”

Trini shook her head. “Not normally. But we’ve had lots of volunteers around during the construction, and we don’t always have someone at the reception desk. Depends on who I’ve got for help.”

“Can I talk to Micah?” Sandy asked. “Maybe he’s got some idea of who took the watch.”

Trini looked skeptical as she took over Sandy’s position and they moved to the next frame. “Sure. He was here at breakfast, but you may have to look around. During the week he usually goes out, but this being Sunday I’m not sure where he’ll be. He’s about five-ten, clean shaven, wearing a blue Patagonia jacket.”

Sandy found him at one of the computers in the dining hall. He looked up when she took a chair next to him. She noticed he’d been browsing real estate listings.

“Micah? Hey, I’m Sandy. Um, I happened to overhear what you were telling Trini yesterday about your missing watch.”

“Yeah? You know something about that?” His brown eyes narrowed.

“No, unfortunately. But my friend and I were hoping to help. We’re sort of amateur detectives and we’ve helped recover some other things.” She didn’t say that a pocket watch didn’t exactly fall into the same category as a million dollar diamond necklace; to this man his heirloom might be every bit as valuable. “I just think it’s rotten that anyone would steal from people who—”

“People who are homeless. You can say it.” Micah ran a hand through dark hair that had grown over his ears and to the collar of his shirt.

She noticed his shirt was of fine quality and his slacks still held creases. The jacket was a good brand and showed no wear. This guy had not shopped at the Goodwill store, and he’d probably not been on the streets.

“You’re right. I don’t belong here,” he said, noticing that she’d given his clothing the once-over. “Until three months ago I was living in Scottsdale, had a thriving real estate business and a family.”

“What happened? Sorry—maybe you don’t want to say.”

He shrugged. “Real estate market went bust, banks took away everything. One by one, my investment properties foreclosed. Wife stuck with me until they came after our house, then she packed up the kids and took off for her parents’ place in Iowa. At least the kids will get a white Christmas this year.” His voice grew rough and he cleared his throat.

“Wow, I’m so sorry. Everything’s gone?”

“I kept my car, but cops are suspicious of a guy living on the street in a BMW. Sold it for barely enough to pay off the balance.”

“And your grandfather’s pocket watch was kind of the only thing of value you had left.”

“Yep, both my parents are gone, no siblings. In-laws weren’t too sympathetic—they told Cassie I didn’t know what I was doing with my investment strategies, and they were happy to take her and the kids as long as it was without me.” He paused. “I’m not here long term. I find the right deal and I’m outta here. I’ll rebuild everything I once had.”

Sandy let a moment pass, hoping the bitter words would leave the air. “The watch. Do you know when it was taken? I mean, was there an opportunity for someone to pick it up?”

“I kept it in my coat or pants pocket all the time. Locked the door when I showered, slept with it under my pillow. Yeah, I know, like a puppy when it leaves the litter and you have to put a clock in bed with it for company. The tick-tick was reassuring somehow.”

“Could someone have picked your pocket?”

“Possibly,” he admitted. “I worked enough in downtown Phoenix to be pretty aware of people pushing against me or bumping me. But I don’t know. Can’t swear to anything. This place is open all hours during the day. I think they lock the doors at eleven, but anyone can come and go. Trini needs to keep someone at the front desk all the time, keep a log of who’s walking in. I told her that.”

A stooped woman with frizzy gray hair and a shopping cart filled with blankets, rags, cardboard, and aluminum cans pushed past, eyeing the now-closed breakfast buffet tables hopefully.

“Okay, maybe it wouldn’t be easy to get every person to sign in.”

Sandy shifted in her chair. “We’ll ask around, see if we can find out anything about your watch. I’m really sorry that happened.”

He gave her a look that said, yeah, whatever.