Stranger in Paradise

14.

Wilson Cromartie, in a tan summer suit and a yellow gingham shirt, walked down the center passage of a big mall that had replaced the nineteenth-century brick buildings in the heart of Marshport. There were some shoppers, but the majority of the people in the mall were Hispanic teenagers, in the various costumes of their age group. A number of them were in a store called Images, gazing at the television sets they couldn’t afford.

Crow went into the store.

“My daughter bought a big-screen TV here a while ago,” Crow said to the clerk. “And the delivery seems to have gone astray.”

“Astray?”

“Yes,” Crow said. “She never got it.”

“Oh, my,” the clerk said.

He turned to the computer.

“What’s your daughter’s name, sir?”

“Amber Francisco,” Crow said.

The clerk worked the computer for a moment.

“Twelve-A Horn Street?” the clerk said.

Crow nodded. The clerk smiled.

“It was delivered ten days ago,” the clerk said. He was triumphant. “Signed for by Esteban Carty.”

Crow looked puzzled.

“Here in Marshport?”

“Yes, sir. If you’d like to step around the counter, I can show you.”

“No,” Crow said. “Thank you. That’ll be fine.”

He shook his head.

“Damn kid will put me in an early grave,” he said.

He left the store. As he walked back through the mall, several of the teenage girls lounging about watched him as he passed.