cash money, where you can put your hands on it, day or night. Hide it good. And make a plan, so you can grab that bag and get out fast when the time comes.”
That day in the closet, Tanya gave Letty a peek into the bag. She got a glimpse of a velvet-covered jeweler’s box that she knew contained Tanya’s diamond ring push present, and fat wads of bills, fastened with rubber bands, before her sister snatched the bag away and returned it to its hiding place.
“Promise me,” dream Tanya said now, tugging at her arm. “Promise you’ll take Maya and get the hell away from him.”
“I will,” Letty murmured. “I promise I will.”
“Letty, Letty.” The tugging continued. She opened her eyes slowly and Maya, her very real niece, was pulling at her hand. “Letty, I need to potty.”
“Oh, honey.” Letty stood up and went to door of the bathroom, which had a pink tile floor and pink fixtures. The pink sink was stacked with more piles of discarded linens, and the pink-tiled shower stall was full of dust-covered collapsed cardboard cartons. The room smelled sour, but it held the only thing Letty really needed at the moment.
She pulled Maya’s shorts down and dangled the child inches above the pink plastic toilet seat. “Go ahead and go, baby,” she urged. Maya giggled and did as she was told.
“Gotta get that cleaning cart, stat,” Letty said. She pushed the linens aside, found a shriveled-up sliver of soap, and washed her own hands as well as her niece’s.
* * *
By six o’clock, she was standing in the mostly cleared-out motel room, her hands on her hips, staring at the stuff that had proven too heavy to move by herself. “How the hell am I gonna get this junk out of here?”
Seconds later there was a rap at the door, followed by an impatient male voice. “Hey! You in there?”
Spooked, Letty ran to the window and peered out through the fly-specked glass. She shrugged, then opened the door. Joe’s badge and gun were gone; he was dressed in jeans, a T-shirt, and flip-flops. So maybe he didn’t intend to arrest or shoot her just yet.
“Yes?” her voice was deliberately cool and she stared directly at him. Another trick from her short-lived acting class.
Without asking, he stepped inside the room and looked around. The only remaining discards were the commodes and the washing machine and one of the mattresses. After her uneasy nap session, she’d unearthed a bed frame and set it up with the least objectionable mattress, and from beneath a pile of faded floral draperies she’d uncovered a sturdy but ugly double dresser that could hold what little of their belongings she’d brought along. She’d found a worn-down broom in the bathroom and managed to sweep away the top layers of cobwebs and unspeakable crud.
“Not bad,” he said. “You did all this by yourself?”
“Me and the wheelbarrow,” Letty said.
He pointed at the washing machine. “Were you planning on leaving that here?”
Letty rolled her eyes. “Sure. I’m gonna plant a palm tree in it.”
“Okay, well, then you don’t need me.”
“Actually, I was just trying to figure out what to do with it,” she admitted.
“That asshole Chuck,” Joe said. He went outside and came back with a heavy-duty furniture dolly. “I told her he was a bum, but she’s always had a soft heart for a stray.”
“Your mom?”
“Who else?” He wheeled the dolly over to the washing machine. “Okay. I’m gonna stick the lip of this under the washer, and you’re gonna push it forward—carefully, until it tilts backward. Like a lever. Got that?”
“I think I can manage.”
Maya was watching the grown-ups with interest, her thumb in her mouth. Letty reached over and gently pushed the thumb aside. “You sit on the bed now and try to stay out of the way. Can you do that, ladybug?”
Maya nodded and returned the thumb to her mouth.
Joe wrapped a webbed belt around the washer and fastened it to the dolly’s handles.
“Go,” he said.
Letty placed both hands on the machine, closed her eyes, and leaned hard into it. Seconds later, she heard a loud thud.
“Owwww,” Joe howled.
She opened her eyes. The belt had snapped in two and the washing machine seemed to have landed on his foot.
He somehow managed to shove it aside, and dropped onto the floor, cradling his bare right foot in both hands, rocking back and forth, his face contorted—either with pain or anger, she wasn’t sure which.