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He leaned in and kissed her. “Only if you promise not to go off any cliffs.”
She smiled, breathing him in. “Just trying to keep up with you, husband.”
THIRTY-NINE
Josie and Mettner followed Anya to the hospital in Bradysport where Garrick Wolfe had been transferred the night before for surgery and where he was currently in the ICU. They waited for her to exit her car, cross the parking lot, and enter the building before pulling away and heading toward the homeless shelter nearby. Over the course of the investigation, using the phone number Rosalie Eddy had provided, Gretchen had routinely pinged Carolina Eddy’s phone. Rosalie was right. It had been out of service. But they kept pinging it in the hope that she’d get it turned back on—and she had. In fact, Carolina had called Rosalie the evening before, which Rosalie reported to the Denton PD immediately after hanging up with her daughter. Carolina wouldn’t tell Rosalie where she was staying but with the phone turned back on, Gretchen was able to pinpoint its location: a homeless shelter that Rosalie confirmed Carolina had frequented in the past.
Josie just hoped she was still there.
Mettner drove the car through the streets of Bradysport, weaving through residential areas with modest homes until he came to a block of streets that contained several businesses. They were nearly at the shelter when Josie saw Carolina going into a laundromat, a small mesh sack of clothes over her shoulder. “Stop,” Josie told Mettner. “I think that’s her.”
He parked nearby. “You sure?”
She looked much more emaciated than the photo that Josie had seen on Sharon Eddy’s social media and the last driver’s license photo they’d found for her in the TLO database, but Josie was certain. “That red hair stands out,” she said. “Come on, let’s have a closer look.” As they walked up to the laundromat, Josie peered inside the windows. The inside was narrow and long with another entrance in the rear. Besides Carolina, Josie saw only one other patron, a man. His head bobbed to music coming from a pair of blue earbuds as he stuffed his wet clothes into a dryer. Behind him, midway between the front and back entrances, Carolina took off her coat, tossed it onto a nearby chair, and then dumped the contents of her mesh bag onto a table and began riffling through clothes.
Josie said, “Go around the back.”
“What?”
Josie pointed to the rear door. “She’s a runner. Trust me. Go around the back. Wait by the door.”
He stared at Carolina as she searched through the pockets of a pair of jeans. “How do you know she’s a runner?”
“Mett,” Josie said. “I just know.”
“Meet you in there then,” he muttered.
Josie waited until his shadow appeared in the center of the rear door. Carolina was still oblivious, shaking the empty bag for any leftover contents. The other patron now sat on a bench, scrolling through his phone. His head still moved to music coming through his earbuds. Josie went inside. As she got closer to Carolina, she saw that she was searching her clothes’ pockets for change. A small pile sat on the table next to her things. Not enough to do a load of wash. As Josie came within five feet of her, her head whipped up. In person, Josie was struck by the near-perfect facsimile of Sharon Eddy’s face. In a universe where Carolina wasn’t firmly in the grip of drug addiction, they might have even passed for sisters. Except for the red hair, of course, and the faint yellow tint of her skin. Even the sclera of her eyes was yellow.
Josie said, “Carolina Eddy.”
Carolina went still, watching Josie like she was a wild animal that might attack. She took Josie in from head to toe. Denton PD polo shirt under a slim black coat that did little to conceal the gun at her hip. Brown slacks, boots. Josie could practically see the word form as if in a thought bubble over her head: cop.
She ran.
By the time she reached the back door, Mettner had stepped inside, a wall preventing her from getting out. “Stop,” he told her. “We just want to talk.”
Carolina turned back toward Josie. There was a spring in her knees as her weight shifted to the balls of her feet. Ready to run.
Josie said, “We’re not here to arrest you or give you any trouble of any kind. We just want to talk.”
Carolina’s head swiveled back to Mettner. Josie could see her calculating whether or not she could make it around him to the outside, but his frame took up the entire door. He softened his tone. “Miss Eddy, we’re actually here because we have some bad news.”
Carolina rocked back on her heels. “Bad news? Is it my mom?”
Josie said, “No, it’s your daughter, Sharon. She was killed on Friday. Your mother gave us your number. We’ve been trying to locate you. I’m so sorry.”
They weren’t there to give a death notification. They already knew that Rosalie had told her about Sharon, but Mettner’s approach worked. Immediately, Carolina’s posture went slack. She shook her head. “I talked to my mom last night. She told me.” Her head bobbed toward the table of clothes. “I was trying to do some washing so I have something clean to wear to the funeral.”
Josie reached into her pockets and came up with a handful of dollar bills. She held them out. “You need ones, don’t you?”
She stared at the money. “I don’t have change.”
Josie shrugged. “Don’t worry about it.”
Carolina took the money as if Josie might bite her, moving in fast, snatching it, and then stepping away even more quickly. As she went over to a vending machine that dispensed single-load portions of laundry detergent, Josie and Mettner followed. They made sure to keep her between them in case the uneasy truce broke. A quick glance toward the front of the store told Josie that the other patron hadn’t even looked up from his phone.
Mettner produced his credentials, introducing himself and then Josie. Carolina didn’t bother to look at either of their IDs. She inserted a few dollars into the machine and started punching buttons. “If you’re still here, I guess you’ve got questions.”
