Page 89 of Pretty Broken Dolls
“Yes, it is.”
“I’m Detective Scott and this is my partner, Deputy McGaven.”
“Oh,” she said, eying their badges and guns. “Is something wrong?”
“We’re here about one of your tenants—Darla Winchell.”
“Oh really? Is she okay?”
Katie looked around to see if anyone was nearby and within eavesdropping distance. “May we come inside?”
“Oh dear. Yes, of course,” she said and opened the door wide for them to enter.
After shutting the door, she turned to them and said, “I’m Rene Cross.”
“I’m so sorry to tell you this, but I’m afraid that Ms. Winchell has been found murdered.”
It was clear that the news shook her. The color drained from her face and she wobbled a bit in unsteadiness.
“Ms. Cross, are you okay? Why don’t you sit down and catch your breath,” said Katie as she guided the woman to the couch.
The living room was open and spacious with two big windows that looked out at the trees. A white fluffy cat with bright blue eyes jumped up on the couch and immediately went to the woman’s lap. “Oh, you silly boy,” she said.
Katie knelt down beside her. “Beautiful cat. What’s his name?”
“Simon,” she said as the color flooded her cheeks again.
Katie petted the silky cat. “Can I get you a glass of water?”
“No, dear, I’m fine now.”
“I’m sorry to have to tell you about Ms. Winchell’s death so abruptly.”
“How? When?”
“I’m sorry, again, but we’re in the middle of the investigation and we can’t divulge anything right now.” Katie stood up. “Would it be possible to get a key to her apartment?”
“Oh, yes, of course.” She got up and went into the kitchen and came right back. “Here you go.” She gave the keys to Katie.
“When was the last time you saw Ms. Winchell?”
“It must’ve been…last Monday. She was on her way to work, so it was around 8:30a.m.”
“Did she happen to confide in you about anyone bothering her? Did she have any problems that you knew of?”
“Oh no. She was a wonderful woman. So kind. Friendly. Always paid her rent on time. I didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary.”
Katie handed her a business card. “If you think of anything, please don’t hesitate to call me.”
“Thank you.”
“We’ll get the key back to you soon,” said McGaven.
“Okay,” she said and walked Katie and McGaven to the door.
After the door shut, Katie and McGaven hurried back up the stairs to the apartment.
Katie stood at the front door staring at the number 21. Her nerves were twitchy and an annoying prickle ran up the back of her neck. Her instincts and experience told her to push forward. Inserting the key, twisting and pushing the door open, she stepped over the threshold.
