Until

He had that curly brownish black hair.  Thick.  Slicked down.  Miguel didn't shave regularly.  He used to.  In fact, he used to be nicely dressed. He would shoulder his way down the hall as if he owned the place. Schmoozing was what he did best. He would flirt with the single women.  Much in the way a gigalo does. But he was careful.  No one was ever around when he flew off with the compliments.  What he didn't figure is that women talk.

It was only a year ago when people began to notice a change.  It wasn't just that his shop was expanding into the garage.  Or that materials were always left in disarray. It was often hard to find him.  Cathy would reach him by phone.  She always shrugged her shoulders.

"Oh, God," she said.

The eye roll said it all.  Her voice would trail off.  As did her body.  She wouldn't look at you unless you were in the brown nose club.

But Miguel would look.  And boy, he did!  His eyes changed, too.  They were fixed and glassy.  His body odor made it difficult to stay in the same room with him.  Residents always had a spray handy after he would leave their apartment, having completed repairs. But his breath reminded you of alcohol.

He hung around long after the end of business hours.  Sleeking out in apartments.  Always with that forced laugh.

"They're watching you," Beth said.

She couldn't resist.  She knew they were.  She just didn't know who all of the 'they' were.  She would in time.

The day the new resident moved in Beth began to suspect something.  Adam never interacted in large groups.  He asked enough questions though.  Especially about Cathy and Miguel.  He was careful, though.  Always made sure no one was around.  He had been well schooled in the art of casual interrogation.

Until...