What to do, What to do

Marlene turned and headed back to Man's truck.
"Marlene," Man said. "Come back here. We can't just leave this poor stiff laying here being stripped by some old coot."
"Don't be judgemental, Man. That woman looks like an upstanding citizen to me. Besides, what else are we going to do with him? The police obviously don't want him."
"We have to give them a second chance."
"I think we are doing just that," Marlene said. "We brought him to them, what more can they want."
"Don't you think they'd like to know how he got here?"
"Oh, very well." Marlene pulled a small notepad and matching pencil from her purse. She quickly wrote several lines on the paper. "What is your cell phone number, Man?" she asked.
He recited his digits and she recorded them. She tucked the note in the shirt pocket of the dead man.
"There," she said. "When they find him, they'll know he came from the construction site on Texas Street, and that you found him in the closet.
"I found him?" Man said. Marlene wasn't sure she liked the tone in his voice.
"Well it is your house," Marlene said. "And I've got to get back to Mydia. Besides, how will I have time to find out who he is if I'm stuck at the police station answering a bunch of awkward questions?"
Man appeared to have been struck by lightening.
Marlene noticed a Trimet bus was approaching the senior center. She pulled a bus pass out of her alligator skin wallet and strode purposefully to the street.
Man was still standing by the stiff as Marlene boarded the bus. "Call me later and we can talk about those towel bars," she called out the open window.