Page 61 of Killer Clone

“That’s right. I’m Special Agent Stella Knox. This is Special Agent Stacy Lark.”

“So Feds are working the case. Nothing to do with me. Wasn’t there that Friday. Slept here. Right here. Through that door.” He pointed at the door that led to the shelter, pushed his empty soup bowl away, and reached for his rice.

That lined up with the alibi they’d received already. But that didn’t mean Fett hadn’t seen something later.

Stacy nudged the plate closer to him. “You ever see anyone hanging around over there? Acting suspiciously?”

“Uh-uh.” Delafayette dug out a big spoonful of rice and shoveled it into his mouth. “People don’t hang out there. That’s why I like it.” He jabbed at his rice with his spoon. “Y’all should get yourselves some of this. Good stuff. And they don’t care how much you take. Eat as much as you want here.”

“We’re good, thanks. You see a vehicle by chance?”

“Just the truck. White Toyota Tacoma. Ready for the scrap heap, almost.”

Stella’s antennae went up at this piece of information. Something else tugged at her memory too. A Toyota. A Toyota Tacoma. Who else owned a truck like that?

Before she could think more about it, Stacy folded her arms. “But you didn’t see the driver. And I guess you didn’t see the plates.”

“Uh-uh.”

“And you wouldn’t tell us if you did, would you? Someone with a record like yours, you wouldn’t want to help the law.”

Delafayette jerked his head up. A grain of rice dropped from the end of his beard. “Yeah, I would. What I did, I did a long time ago. Long time. And I paid. That’s done. I ain’t got no love for the people who dropped that body. Whoever dumped their shit in my alley didn’t do me no favors.”

Stella was starting to like Delafayette. He knew what he’d done and what he was and had come to terms with both. He might not have much, but that knowledge was more than most had.

“What do you mean by that? How did dropping the body in that alley harm you?”

“That’s a good alley. Good dumpsters. You can fish some good shit out of there. Clothes. Takeout food. All kinds of shit. And no one ever sees you, too out of the way. But the cops were all over it on Saturday. Couldn’t get near. Went back on Tuesday, but the place scared the bejesus out of me. Too full of ghosts now.”

“If it’s out of the way, how did you know about it?”

Delafayette shoveled the rice again. A slice of sausage fell from the spoon, and he prodded it back with his finger. “Every town’s got places like that. You just gotta know where they are. Even folks who’ve lived some place all their lives don’t know where they are.”

“So how did you find out? You were up in Lebanon until a few weeks ago.”

“Places like this.” He lifted a finger and made a circle. “As soon as I get somewhere, I come to one of these. Hot food, hot shower, a bed. And all the best secrets.” He chuckled. He had a deep laugh that didn’t sound like it had been used for a while. “Word spreads around these places. That’s what it’s like when you live on the streets. We help each other. ’Cause ain’t no one else gonna help us.”

Stacy frowned. “So who didyouhelp? Did you tell anyone else about that alley?”

“Sure, I told people. Like I said, we help each other.”

“Who’d you tell?”

“I don’t know their names. People. Folks here. Ain’t no big secret.” He jammed the last spoonful of rice into his mouth and pulled the cake closer. “Hmm. Carrot cake. Those old ladies behind the counter know how to make the good stuff. Y’all really should grab a slice.”

“Fett, we need to know who you told about the alley. Did you tell Otto?”

Delafayette chomped down on the cake. “I don’t know who I told. Just people, is all. Yeah, I told Otto. He asked where I was sleeping once, so I told him. S’all there is to it. Now y’all leave me alone.”

He pushed himself away from the table and shuffled away.

Stacy apologized to Stella. “I scared him off. Sorry, I just figured the person he told might have been?—”

“The person who dumped the body.” Stella considered what they’d learned. “Guess that’s how Otto knew where to go. What it doesn’t tell us is who helped him move a naked corpse through the center of Nashville.”

27

It was almost twenty after nine the next morning, and Hagen’s eyes were crossing. Nine different channels divided the screen on his desk. Each frame of the footage showed a section of the streets around Kerrick’s Alley at dusk the previous evening.

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