The shape seemed to shift its weight.
“I said, stop where you are. Right now.”
The movement ceased. A moment passed. Then a phlegmy cough broke the silence. “I hear yuh.”
A southern drawl. Georgia felt her breath catch. “Who are you? What are you doing here?”
“This be where I live. Who is you?”
Relief surged through her. Suddenly, she was terribly tired. She stood up. “How long have you lived here?”
“Few nights. Maybe more.”
“Sit on the floor.”
The figure did.
“Okay, I’m going to turn a light on.”
“No. No light.”
“I need to make sure you’re not armed.”
“You the police?” His accent was on the first syllable.
She didn’t answer. She snapped on the Maglite with one hand, still aiming her Glock with the other.
A black man in sweatpants and cowboy boots. Some kind of jacket, but no gloves or hat. Salt-and-pepper hair, a ragged face, plenty of stubble. The guy was shivering, but he tried to smile. “Hey, you shine that light somewhere else? I can’t see shit.”
She angled the light to the side.
“You ’bout scared the living piss out of me. But I got a bottle in my jacket. And I could really use a drink right about now.” He started to reach toward his pocket.
Georgia moved the light back to his face. “Don’t even think about it.”
His hand stopped. He tried to block the glare with it. “Ain’t no gun; I don’t have none. Why you here? Ain’t no one supposed to be here no more.”
“What do you mean?”
“I seen ’em leave.”
“Who?”
I don’t know who. But they all pack up and left.”
“When?”
“I told you. About a week ago.”
“Who were they?” Georgia repeated.
“Lady…I keep telling you. I don’t know. Now, you wanna let me get my bottle?”
“In a minute.” He was probably out of range, all the way across the room, but better to be careful.
“You said you didn’t know much about the people who were here.”
“That’s right.”
“Were they mostly women?”
“There be men too.”
“Could you tell what they were doing?”
“Figured they was hos and pimps.”
“What made you think that?”
“When I get here, there’s perfume, hair stuff, makeup too. I cleaned up some, but you know…” His voice trailed off. “Guess they was in a hurry.”
“What else?”
He shook his head. “Nothin.’ I be staying here now. It ain’t half-bad.” He stopped. “Hey, I told you what I know. You wanna help me?”
“How?”
“You wanna blow some air into that air mattress yonder? My breathing ain’t so great.”
Georgia crept closer and shone the light into bloodshot eyes. She could see he was breathing hard. Emphysema? He gazed at her with such a beseeching look that she couldn’t turn away. The guy hardly had breath enough to live. Much less come after her.
“Okay.” She holstered her gun, lowered the light, and walked past him into the other room where the air mattress was . She hoped there were no bedbugs or roaches nesting in it . “You can get your bottle now.”