Free Entranced by Nora Roberts

Sutherland.”

Chapter 4
    Mel spent most of the morning doing door-to-doors in Rose’s neighborhood with Sebastian’s sketch in her hand. By that afternoon, the score was three positive IDs, four offers of coffee, and one lewd proposition.
    One of the positive IDs also corroborated Sebastian’s description of the car, right down to the dented door. And that gave Mel a very uncomfortable feeling.
    It didn’t stop her from backtracking. There was a name on her list that continued to nag at her. Mel had a hunch Mrs. O’Dell in apartment 317 knew more than she was saying.
    For the second time that day Mel knocked on the dull brown door, wiped her feet on the grass-green welcome mat with the white daisy in the corner. From inside she could hear the whining of children and the bright applause of a television game show.
    As it had before, the door opened a few inches, and Mel looked down into the chocolate-smeared face of a young boy. “Hi. Is your mom home?”
    “She don’t let me say to strangers.”
    “Right. Maybe you could go get her.”
    Bumping a sneakered foot against the doorjamb, the boy seemed to consider. “If I had a gun, I could shoot you.”
    “Then it looks like this is my lucky day.” She crouched down until they were eye-to-eye. “Chocolate pudding, right?” she said, studying the smears around his mouth. “Did you get that from licking the spoon after your mom made it?”
    “Yeah.” He shifted his feet and began to eye her with more interest. “How’d you know that?”
    “Elementary, my dear pudding-face. The smears are pretty fresh, and it’s too close to lunch for your mom tolet you have a whole bowl.”
    The boy tilted his head. “Maybe I snuck it.”
    “Maybe,” Mel agreed. “But then you’d be pretty dumb not to wash off the evidence.”
    He started to grin when his mother swooped down from behind. “Billy! Didn’t I tell you not to answer the door?” She hauled him back one-handed. The other arm was full of a wiggling girl with teary eyes. Mrs. O’Dell sent Mel one impatient look. “What are you doing back around here? I told you everything I could already.”
    “You were a big help, Mrs. O’Dell. It’s my fault, really. I’m just trying to put everything in order,” Mel continued, slipping into the cluttered living room as she spoke. “I hate to bother you again, especially since you were so helpful before.”
    Mel almost choked on that. Mrs. O’Dell had been suspicious, unfriendly, and curt. Just, Mel thought as she warmed up her apologetic smile, as the lady was going to be now.
    “I looked at your picture.” Mrs. O’Dell jiggled her daughter on her hip. “I told you everything I know. Just like I told the police.”
    “I know. And I’m sure it’s inconvenient to have your busy day constantly interrupted.” Mel stepped over a platoon of G.I. Joes that had been overrun by a miniature fire truck. “But you see, your living room windows look right down on where the perpetrator was allegedly parked.”
    Mrs. O’Dell set her daughter down, and the little girl toddled toward the TV and sat down hard on her diapered bottom. “So?”
    “Well, I couldn’t help but notice how clean your windows are. The cleanest ones in the entire building. You know, if you look up here from down on the street, they shine like diamonds.”
    The flattery smoothed away Mrs. O’Dell’s frown. “I take pride in my home. I don’t mind clutter—with two kids you’re going to have plenty of that. But I don’t tolerate dirt.”
    “Yes, ma’am. It seems to me that to have windows looking like that you’d have to keep after them.”
    “You’re telling me. Living this close to the water, you get that salt scum.” With a mother’s radar, she shot a look over her shoulder. “Billy, don’t let the baby put those dirty soldiers in her mouth. Give her your truck.”
    “But, Mom …”
    “Just for a little while.” Satisfied that she would be obeyed, Mrs. O’Dell glanced back.