Chapter Three
His pockets were empty: no money, no identification...and no circuit pieces. His pants were a size too big, held up by a frayed old canvas belt, and his shirt was too small, stretching uncomfortably across his bony, shrunken chest.
"Strangled, just like the others," Oscar noted grimly. "Let's get him processed."
"Less than 24 hours since the last one," Russ pointed out. "They've definitely picked up the pace."
"There'll be more," Oscar theorized. "My best guess is ten missing pieces...ten bodies. We have to figure out the connection - hopefully before they choose number seven."
"You got a blanket?" Benny asked.
Steve shrugged. "It's June...and it's LA. I'll just put my bag under my head and be fine. A blanket...too hot."
"It's not for a cover," Benny corrected. "You sleep on top of it, unless you like waking up with the creepy crawlies all over you."
"Oh."
"Cardboard works, too, but a blanket is better. Lay one out on top of cardboard and you're all set."
"Little problem there," Steve hedged. "No money."
"I can probably help you get one. I know a place; we'll head over there in a bit. You eat anything?"
"Not lately."
Benny grinned. "You're in luck. Harley found a big bag of donuts and they're in pretty good shape."
"Found?"
"He's the best dumpster diver we've got. Usually brings back enough to share, too. Hey, Harley!"
"You found me; what's up?" A man in his early forties, short and lean, with second-hand spectacles and an easy, friendly manner joined them.
"This here's Kevin," Benny told him. Harley nodded 'hello' with a tipping of an imaginary hat. "Got any breakfast left?" Benny asked.
"Sure do." Harley offered up a small garbage bag. "Help yourself."
"Hey, thanks," Steve replied, choosing a cinnamon sugar ring. It was dry and a little tough (at least two days old) and the sugar had begun to form hard crystals but it was still somewhat edible. Steve was touched by these men's willingness to share the little they had with a total stranger. It was a generosity he hadn't expected and wasn't yet certain he could trust.
"The blankets can go right over there," Sarah instructed.
"Do we really need this many?" Jaime asked, neatly placing the tall stack on a nearby table.
"I wish we had more; these'll be gone before noon." Sarah looked toward the door. "Seems we've already got a couple of takers. May as well open up."
"You're new," Benny observed, eying Jaime as she unlocked the entrance. "Guess we chewed up and spit out another one, huh, Sarah?"
"Laura got transferred," the pudgy director called over her shoulder. "This is Jessie."
Benny nodded respectfully and pulled Steve forward. "This is Kevin. He just got here from...where'd you say you were from?"
"Portland, originally."
"You've certainly come a long way," Jaime noted with a wink at Steve when no one was looking.
"Yeah, but it wasn't 'home' anymore, if you know what I mean," Steve told her. "Benny said you have blankets?"
"Right over there." Jaime couldn't get over the change in Steve. The transformation was total: attitude and posture as well as appearance. "We can probably find you a bed at the Armory, if you're interested -"
"He's not," Benny interjected, butting in very quickly to speak for 'Kevin'. "We've already got a place - and food. Kevin, grab a blanket and let's head out." Benny turned to Jaime. "No offense, Ma'am, but you college-types just have no idea..."
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