Lydia’s Bread and Soup Kitchen
Washington, D.C.
Maggie watched R. J. Tully roll up his shirtsleeves. He eyed the pre-plated meals they were about to serve as if he couldn’t wait for their free one at the end of the evening. The food actually looked really good. She hadn’t eaten since her doughnut and coffee with Nessie.
From what she knew, this organization took leftover or surplus food and turned it into meals. Quantico’s new assistant lab director mentioned it. Izzy Kuszak had been a chapter leader at her college. The woman still looked like a college student, and Maggie was having a difficult time envisioning her as Keith Ganza’s replacement. She’d worked with Ganza since she was a newbie. It wouldn’t be the same walking into that place and not seeing his gray ponytail and ever-changing rock band T-shirt under his dingy white lab coat.
Everything in her life and surroundings were changing all at once.
“When you asked us to meet you for dinner and dress casually,” Gwen said while looping the apron over her head, “I expected some new, low-key bistro.”
She glanced over. Her friend, Dr. Gwen Patterson, didn’t look as enthusiastic as Tully. In fact, she did not look pleased.
“Hey, I had to pull some strings to get us out here serving instead of in back cleaning up.”
She handed Gwen a pair of plastic gloves. Tully was already pulling on his pair. Gwen rolled her eyes but took the gloves.
They hadn’t opened the doors yet, and the regular employees and volunteers were busy preparing. Only the director knew they were with the FBI. The others thought they were just new recruits.
Maggie took Gwen and Tully into the empty dining area, comfortably out of earshot.
“This place is close to both sites.” She didn’t need to tell them what “sites” she meant.
She had filled them in earlier about the murders. Or at least shared the details she knew about. Racine was slow in getting her the reports, even though Maggie had called twice to remind her.
However, Racine was quick to tell her, “Not everyone moves at the speed of O’Dell.”
She knew Racine’s crew was strapped for resources. It was one of the reasons her boss was probably anxious to off-load this case. But it still annoyed Maggie. In Maggie’s mind, their response would be much quicker if the victims weren’t homeless.
Was that the reason Racine’s attitude seemed a bit too nonchalant even for Racine? Or was there something more? Something personal?
“Your profile suggests he’s also homeless?” Tully asked.
“I’m not sure yet. I don’t have enough information. But so far, it’s been his targets.”
“No other connection between the victims?” Gwen’s eyes were already out the window, examining the line on the sidewalk.
“Racine doesn’t have identities yet. I learned more this morning talking to a woman who lives on the street than I did from the homicide department.”
“So, what exactly are we looking for?” Tully wanted to know.
“I’m not sure.”
“If you’re not sure what we’re looking for, isn’t this a bit premature?” Gwen asked.
“Maybe.” Maggie hated how uncertain she sounded. “But it’s also early enough,” she continued, “that he won’t expect us to be watching. He could make a mistake. What I know is two men have been killed in a matter of ten days within blocks of each other. We need to start somewhere because I doubt that he’s finished.”
Tully nodded. “Okay. Is there anything at all we do know about him?”
Maggie remembered the contents of the bag. She hadn’t been allowed to sort through it, but she did get a good look at the pair of shoes inside.
“He has really big feet.”