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“They’ve been moving out for a month. I think they just finished last weekend.” She shrugs one shoulder. “The owner got a good price so they moved into an apartment across town.” She squints. “I think The Hills.” I look at the house, then back at her when she asks, “Are you a cop?” I lift my chin, and her nose scrunches. “You got questions about Carrie’s friend, the one who died?”
“Do you know anything about that?”
“Just that she was murdered. I saw her here a couple of times with Carrie, then recognized her from the news. Pretty girl.” She takes a drag off her cigarette and lets out a stream of smoke. “This world is fucked up.”
She’s not wrong about that. “You said they moved to The Hills?”
“I think so. I didn’t talk to Buck much. He works nights and sleeps during the day, but I think I remember him mentioning that place.”
“Thanks for your help.”
“No problem.” She heads inside as I walk to my truck.
When I get behind the wheel, I find the number for Carrie in my file, but when I dial it, the message I get lets me know the number is not in service. So, I call the apartment complex and make sure someone is in the office before I head that direction.
It takes a good twenty minutes and about a dozen phone calls before the manager at the complex is willing to give me the apartment number for Carrie and her dad, and by the time I leave her in the office, I’m half-tempted to ask if she’d want a job working for national security.
Leaving my truck parked where it is, I walk down the sidewalk toward where Carrie’s apartment is located. As I pass the park in the middle of the complex, a woman in jeans and a bright-pink sweatshirt with MAMA written on the front in gold, pushing a young boy with dark hair on a swing, catches my attention. I recognize Miranda immediately. Even with her hair up in a bun and not a stitch of makeup on her pretty face, she still looks as gorgeous as she did a month ago when I found her standing outside at the policemen’s ball.
“Tucker?” she calls out as I start to walk past her, and I stop, then watch her help her son off the swing. When he runs off toward the slide, she walks up to the metal fence surrounding the small playground. “I… I thought that was you.” She gives me an unsure smile.
“How have you been?”
“Good.” She shrugs, wrapping her arms around her stomach. “You?”
“I’ve been all right.”
“Good,” she repeats softly, then rubs her lips together as we stare at each other, neither of us knowing what to say.
“You live here?” I break through the awkwardness of the encounter that is swirling around us like silk caught in the tide.
“Yeah, for about a month now. It’s nice, quiet, and Kingston loves that the park is just a few steps from our front door.”
“That’s your boy?”
“Yeah, that’s Kingston.” She looks over at him, and a smile lights up her face, making her even more gorgeous.
“He’s cute.”
“I know.” She turns her smile on me, and my gut clenches. “So, you’re good?” The words are simple enough, but they are laced with a thousand questions.
“Yeah, babe, I’m good.”
“I’m happy to hear that. I…,” she cuts herself off. “I’m just happy to hear that.” She looks around, then focuses on me and tips her head to the side, studying me. “So what are you doing here?”
“I’m checking up on someone for a case.”
“Oh.” Her expression shifts to one filled with concern. Fuck, I should not like that look pointed at me.
“I gotta go,” I tell her, and she rubs her lips together again, then her chest rises and falls.
“Of course. It… It was good seeing you, Tucker.”
“You too.” I jerk up my chin before continuing down the sidewalk, and I don’t look back, even as I feel her eyes boring into me from behind.
CHAPTER TEN
tucker
Knocking on Carrie’s door, I wait as I listen to footsteps get closer, then wait some more as I stare at the peephole. When the person standing on the other side doesn’t answer, I knock again, and the door opens an inch, one darkly lined eye peeking out at me.
“Carrie.”
“Hi.” She eyes me warily, opening the door a little more. “My dad’s not home.”
“That’s okay. I just have a few questions for you. Do you have a couple of minutes?” I push because I don’t need her father’s permission to speak with her.
“I….” She licks her lips. “Okay.”
“We can talk outside, if that makes you more comfortable.”
She nods and steps outside, closing the door, and I lead her to the sidewalk.
“How have you been?”
“All right.” She shrugs, looking anywhere but at me, then she drops her eyes to her feet. “Did you find anything out?”
