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“You’re a beautiful, girl, Margo,” I said, leaning over to give her more attention, then glanced up at her owner. “Can you tell me which house the van was parked in front of?”
She moved over next to me and peered out the window. “About where that black car is parked.” Then she pointed for good measure.
She was pointing at my car.
“And you think it was there the whole time?”
“Like I said, I never saw it leave, but it could have driven off and come back.”
“Have you happened to see anything strange going on at the house next door?”
“The Petermans?” she asked, her upper lip curled. “As I previously mentioned, TJ’s an asshole. His wife is too meek and mild to suit me.” Then she grimaced, probably remembering that I’d introduced myself as Vanessa’s friend. “But I’ve only seen her a few times, and on one of those TJ was pissed off about something. If it had been me, I would have given him a good tongue lashing, but she just took it.” She shook her head. “I have to say, I feel sorry for the lot of ’em.”
“You haven’t seen anyone snooping around the house? Adults or kids?”
“I’ve seen some guys walking around, but they were talking about what needed to be done to the Peterman house and how much it was gonna cost.”
“Did they have a van out front?”
“A pickup truck. Munster Construction.”
I typed that into my notes. I needed to ask Vanessa about both companies. “Do you happen to have any surveillance footage of the street?”
“Like video?” she asked in disbelief. “No. Don’t even have an alarm system. My kids keep harping on me to get one, but that’s what Margo’s for.” She gave the dog an affectionate smile. “She’s my alarm system.”
“Still, an actual service is never a bad idea,” I said, although I hadn’t gotten one for my Little Rock house until after I’d been put on administrative leave. “Do you know of any other neighbors who might hold a grudge against the Petermans?” I asked. “Maybe a dispute over the lawn or the kids being too loud or parking on the wrong side of the street?”
“You think someone with a grudge hurt that little girl?” she asked in horror.
“Honestly, Mrs.…” I let my voice trail, waiting for her to fill in her name.
“Celia Watts. Call me Celia.”
“Celia, I don’t know what happened to Ava, but I’m going to do my best to find out. Do you know anything that might help me? Anything at all?”
Regret filled her eyes. “I wish I did, but I told you everything I know. But you might check with Lisa Murphy down the street. She’s the neighborhood busybody. In fact, she called this morning, wanting to know if I knew what was going on.”
Lisa Murphy, the woman who had called my mother.
Celia pointed in the opposite direction of where I’d parked my car. Unless Lisa Murphy was on the opposite side of the street, she wouldn’t have a good view of the house. Given that she’d felt comfortable calling my mother at six in the morning, I also had to assume she’d tell her that I’d come around asking questions.
Still, thoroughness mattered, and some things couldn’t be helped.
“If you think of anything, would you call me?” I asked. I reached into my jeans pocket and realized I didn’t have any cards. All I had was a receipt from my booze run two days ago. I pulled it out of my pocket. “If you have a pen, I’ll write my number down.”
She eyed the receipt with distaste then turned and headed down the hall to her kitchen, returning with a pad and pen. “It might be better if you write it down here.”
“Thanks,” I said and started to write my name and cell number. Crap, would she throw it away when she realized who I was?
But when I handed it to her, she glanced over the name and smiled up at me. “Tell your mother I said hello.”
“Yeah,” I said trying not to grimace. “Will do. Now, if you could point me in the direction of Lisa Murphy’s house…”
She walked me to the door and opened it, indicating an orangish stone house across the street, three doors down. “I suspect Lisa’s peeking out the front window at us now.” Celia gave her a wave.
Two more police cars were parked on the street, and someone had put police tape up around the perimeter of the house.
“Looks like they’re taking this more seriously now,” she said, glancing over at the Petermans’ house.
