SEVEN
Joe stood in the parking lot and noticed a man he didn’t recognize entering the elevator area after being buzzed in. He followed to see which floor the man got off. He was interested to see that the man went into Eneida’s old unit. Joe walked toward Rachel’s office to give a report. He sat in the prissy chair she had for visitors. He never liked the chair because it was uncomfortable but recognized its value to encourage short visits.
“Hey, Joe.”
“Hey,” he said, as he pulled out a cloth from his pocket to wipe perspiration from the top of his balding head. “I just saw the new resident for 810. He rode up the elevator.”
“Oh? What did he look like?” Rachel asked, curious about the man.
“Well, you thought I was bald,” Joe said with a grin, “this guy is a chrome dome. Not a hair on
