Six Killer Bodies by Stephanie Bond Page B

on
    the backs of her eyebal s. “He’s a long-lost friend. Thank
    you for your time.”
    She stumbled to a comfortable chair in a seating area to
    gather herself. So what if Coop came into the store often?
    It didn’t mean he’d known Shawna Whitt.
    But if he was a regular customer, wouldn’t he have seen
    her at some point? If so, why hadn’t Coop mentioned
    when they’d arrived to pick up the woman’s body that she
    seemed familiar?
    Her palms were sweating against the paper cup of coffee.
    She opened the notebook and forced herself to write
    down the details about Shawna and her charm bracelet,
    but her handwriting was shaky. Carlotta ached to call
    Hannah or Wesley for support, but she was afraid to give
    voice to the questions and doubts revolving in her head.
    Tel ing herself that more information about Shawna Whitt
    might reveal another direction she could fol ow, Carlotta
    left the bookstore and drove to the woman’s home. She
    kept an eye on the side mirror, but didn’t notice anyone
    tailing her. Maybe she was all wrong about Michael
    fol owing her into the ladies’ room at Moody’s Cigar
    Bar…or perhaps he’d simply lost interest.
    She didn’t remember the exact address of Shawna Whitt’s
    Berkley Heights home, so she drove through the older
    neighborhood until she spotted the little house. Except for
    the overgrown yard, it was a dream cottage for a single
    woman—neat and picturesque. Carlotta parked on the
    street and got out to stretch her legs. She glanced at the
    neighboring houses. A curtain moved in the window of a
    bungalow across the street.
    Carlotta smiled and headed in that direction. Nosy
    neighbors could be a treasure trove of information. She
    cringed, thinking of all the things her neighbor Mrs.
    Winningham would spil about the Wrens, if given the
    opportunity.
    From the looks of the bungalow, the occupant had lived
    there for a while. The houses on either side looked
    updated. Carlotta strode up to the door and knocked.
    When she didn’t get a response, she knocked again. Finally
    the door opened a few inches to reveal a woman’s
    wrinkled, wary face. “Yes?”
    “Hi,” Carlotta said with a smile. “My name is Carlotta
    Wren. I was wondering if you could answer some
    questions for me about the lady who lived across the
    street.”
    “The one who got murdered?”
    “Yes, Shawna Whitt.”
    “Didn’t know her,” the woman said.
    “That’s okay,” Carlotta said. “I’l bet you’ve lived in this
    neighborhood for a while.”
    “That’s right.”
    “And you have a nice vantage point to be able to look out
    for your neighbors. You probably notice things that other
    people don’t.”
    “Sometimes,” the woman admitted.
    “Did you see anything strange the day that Shawna Whitt
    was found in her home?”
    The woman’s eyes narrowed. “Who are you?”
    “I’m working close to the investigation,” she hedged. “I
    was here the night Miss Whitt’s body was removed.” The
    woman seemed satisfied with the vague identification.
    “May I ask your name, ma’am?”
    “Audrey Cole.”
    “Ms. Cole, please try to remember. Did you notice
    anything out of the ordinary that day?”
    “Like what?”
    “People in the neighborhood who didn’t belong? Strange
    vehicles?”
    “No.”
    Carlotta pressed her lips together, her mind racing for
    another approach. “What about the day before?”
    “Now that’s another matter entirely,” the woman declared
    with a smile. “I noticed a van cruising through the
    neighborhood. I figured it was the phone company, or Ms.
    Rosen three doors down getting new carpet. That woman
    buys new carpet every eighteen months.”
    Carlotta swallowed. “What color?”
    “Same color every time—Sante Fe beige.”
    “No, I meant what color was the van?”
    “Oh. It was white.”
    Her stomach rol ed. “Are you sure?”
    “Yes. A long, white van.”
    “Did the van stop at Shawna’s house?”
    “No, but it did slow down—once when it