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Suddenly, I hear a car screeching to a stop outside. A door opens, then slams.
Company.
CHAPTER
6
We all look up when the front door opens. A woman in her early thirties with hair dyed deep red walks in, weaving slightly in mid-calf leather boots. Her denim jacket partly covers a stained white turtleneck, and her tight jeans are torn at the knees. She looks at Garrett, then me.
“Hey, Ma,” she says. “Who’s this?”
Felicia sits up straight. “Teresa, this is Garrett Wilson and Brea Cooke. They’re writing a book about Cole Wright and your sister.”
Teresa looks drunk and maybe high as she walks across the carpet pocked with cigarette burns. “For shit real?” she asks, slurring the words.
“For shit real,” says Garrett.
“You getting paid, Ma?”
“We haven’t talked about that,” says Felicia.
“Really, Ma? They must be getting paid to write about my big sister and that shit Cole Wright, but they’re not gonna pay you?”
“I’m sorry, Teresa,” I say. “That’s not how it works.”
Teresa takes a step toward me, wobbles, and steps back. She glares at Felicia. “Ma, don’t you see how they’re using you? You give them family photos, childhood stories about Suzanne, and they make big bucks on their book—maybe even get a movie deal or a miniseries on Netflix.”
I can see that Felicia is embarrassed and uncomfortable. “Teresa, please don’t make a scene. Not now.”
Teresa wipes a hand across her mouth, smearing her lipstick. “Well, I got a scene for all of you!”
I wonder where the hell this is going.
Teresa goes quiet, then lets out a small belch. She puts both hands on the back of the black vinyl sofa and leans over. I can smell bacon and booze on her breath.
“I know for a damn fact Cole Wright murdered my sister,” Teresa says. She points toward the front door. “Right out there in Ma’s driveway, in the front seat of Suzanne’s car. He came out of the bushes, got into the car, and strangled my older sister with his big fat football hands.”
I look at Garrett. I know he’s thinking the same thing I am:Did we just break this case wide open with one visit?No way we’re letting this source slip through our fingers.
I see sweat glistening on Teresa’s brow. Her lips start to tremble. Then she bolts out the door.
CHAPTER
7
Is that true?” I ask Felicia. “What your daughter just said?”
Felicia looks numb. “She’s never said it before. How could she know a thing like that and never tell a soul?”
Garrett and I jump up and follow Teresa. I hear loud retching and the distinctive sound of vomit hitting pavement. Then I hear a car door opening.
Teresa!
We run down the steps and across the driveway.
Teresa is at the wheel now, starting her car. Or trying to.
The engine grinds and grinds.