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lives had crossed and folded back onto
    each other’s several times.
    He pul ed into the driveway behind Hannah’s van.
    Wesley’s bicycle sat nearby, and Chance’s BMW.
    “You having a party?” Jack asked.
    “Yes. And you’re not invited.” She unbuckled the seat belt
    and reached for the door handle. “Thanks for the ride.”
    “Carlotta.”
    She stopped and looked back to see Jack’s meaty finger
    wagging at her. “Stay away from this investigation. Let the
    professionals handle it.”
    “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said,
    feigning ignorance.
    “I mean it, Carlotta. Behave.”
    “Why, Jack, I’m a Southern lady. Of course I’l behave.
    Toodles.”
    The sound of his snort resounded in her ears as she swung
    out of the car and slammed the door.

    6
    Carlotta bounded up to the townhouse, amazed at how
    much she missed the place. There really was no place like
    home.
    “Carlotta?”
    At the sound of Mrs. Winningham’s voice, she stopped and
    swallowed a groan. She looked up to the see her neighbor
    standing at the fence, wearing a big sun hat and a bigger
    frown. “Hi, Mrs. Winningham.”
    “We need to talk. You have a serious problem.”
    Carlotta laughed. “You’re going to have to be more
    specific, Mrs. Winningham.”
    “Fire ants.”
    “Beg your pardon?”
    Her neighbor gestured to the Wren’s yard. It was the bane
    of the woman’s existence because crabgrass and
    dandelions had all but choked out the more desirable
    blue-green fescue. “See those two piles of sand over there
    and there? You have fire ants.”
    “I guess that’s a bad thing?” Carlotta asked.
    “Have you ever been bitten by a fire ant?”
    “I can’t say that I have.”
    “Wel , it’s not pretty.” The woman shook her finger. “If you
    don’t get rid of them, they’l spread to my yard, and I can’t
    risk Toofers getting into their nest. They’d eat him alive.”
    While Carlotta wasn’t crazy about the tuft-headed,
    snarling little beast, she agreed that death by fire ants
    would be a painful way for the mutt to go. “I’l talk to
    Wesley about it,” Carlotta promised.
    “Did you hear the police arrested The Charmed Kil er?”
    Carlotta’s throat convulsed. “I heard that an arrest had
    been made.”
    “Finally I can sleep at night.”
    “That’s good, Mrs. Winningham.” Would everyone who’d
    read of Coop’s arrest assume he was guilty? Of course they
    would. If she didn’t know Coop, she would, too. After all,
    he was a former medical examiner who worked around
    death, and had been demoted to a body mover because of
    a drinking problem. It had all the makings of a movie of the
    week. She moved toward the house. “Take care, Mrs.
    Winningham.”
    “Don’t forget about the ants!”
    She jogged up the stairs to the door and twisted the knob.
    When she pushed the door open, a faint beep, beep
    sounded. The sound of voices in the living room stopped.
    Wesley, Hannah and Chance all looked her way.
    “The sensor on the door works,” Wes said. “Where’ve you
    been? I was getting ready to call.”
    “Sorry. I went to see Coop.”
    From the couch, Hannah pushed to her feet. “How is he?”
    Chance looked stricken at Hannah’s interest. Carlotta
    winced—she stil had to process the idea of Hannah and
    Fat Chance as a couple. “Coop was calm.” She turned to
    Wes. “Except when I mentioned that you’d fol owed him
    at the hospital. Then he was furious.”
    Wes explained to Hannah how he’d fol owed Coop to the
    office of a neurologist.
    Hannah paled. “Something’s wrong with him?”
    “He brushed it off,” Carlotta said, pushing her hair back
    from her face. “He insisted it had nothing to do with any of
    this.”
    “And you believe him?” Hannah asked.
    “I don’t know. But since he was so agitated and our
    conversation was probably being recorded, I didn’t want
    to force the issue.”
    “Has he talked to Liz?” Wesley asked.
    “She’s going to handle the