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arraignment on Monday.”
    Chance scratched his head. “I don’t understand what
    we’re all doing here.”
    Hannah frowned at him. “We’re going to help prove that
    Coop didn’t commit these murders.”
    “Isn’t that what the police are for?” Chance asked.
    “The police have already made up their minds,” Wes
    offered.
    “And what if the guy is guilty?”
    “He isn’t,” the rest of them chorused.
    Chance’s eyebrows went up. “And you know this how?”
    Hannah scoffed. “Because some things you just know
    about some people.” She gave Carlotta a meaningful look,
    and Carlotta realized Hannah was referring to Carlotta’s
    support earlier in the week. Hannah had been accused of
    stealing purses at Bedford Manor Country Club events
    where she’d sometimes worked as a server. Carlotta had
    defended her friend to the victims who had been quick to
    judge Hannah because of her goth makeup and clothing.
    And piercings. And tattoos.
    Carlotta smiled, then noticed all the holes in the drywal in
    the living room and beyond, in the hallway and the
    kitchen. She gasped. “Did the police do this when they
    processed the house for evidence?”
    “No,” Wes said. “The holes are from the instal ation of the
    security system. You’re welcome,” he added dryly.
    “No, I appreciate it,” she assured him, but her knees felt
    weak. “I just didn’t expect this much…destruction.”
    Between the damaged walls and the black splotches of
    fingerprint dust around light plates, door facings, and
    doorknobs, the place looked like a war zone.
    “You wanted to repaint anyway,” Wes said. “I figured this
    would give us a reason to redo everything.”
    She nodded, pursing her mouth. “You’re right. Now we
    don’t have a choice.”
    “But we do have sensors on all the doors and windows.”
    “I’m real y impressed you did this all by yourself,” she said.
    “Uh, Chance helped a little.”
    Chance grinned up at Hannah. “Yeah, I helped.”
    Hannah tweaked his chubby cheek. Carlotta threw up in
    her mouth a little. Quickly changing the subject, she pul ed
    the notebook she’d been using to record details of the
    crimes out of her bag. “Let’s go in the kitchen to talk.”
    “But it’s more comfortable here in the living room,” Wes
    said.
    She frowned at him. “We can talk better at the table.”
    He looked like he wanted to argue, but he fol owed her. In
    the kitchen, though, he kept looking toward the window
    over the sink. He was acting strange. As soon as this little
    pow-wow ended, she was going to talk to him about the
    drug test results.
    “Okay,” Carlotta said, opening her book. “I’ve been
    keeping notes on everything that’s happened with The
    Charmed Kil er case. I made copies for you, Wes, and for
    you, Hannah.”
    “We’l share,” Chance said happily.
    Carlotta narrowed her eyes at him. “Anything we talk
    about is confidential.”
    “I can keep my mouth shut,” he groused.
    “I’l make sure of it,” Hannah said to Carlotta, giving
    Chance a glare.
    Carlotta passed around the copies. “I figure since we were
    on the scenes of most of the crimes, we’re in a good
    position to help figure out who’s behind these kil ings.
    Until we have something else to go on, I’m operating
    under the belief that it’s Michael Lane.” She held up a
    picture of Michael. “The body of the first victim, Shawna
    Whitt, was found about the same time he escaped from
    Northside Hospital.”
    “Remind me how she was kil ed,” Hannah said, skimming
    through the notes.
    “It looked like she’d died of natural causes, but before we
    moved the body, Coop found a charm in her mouth—a
    bird, like this one.” She pul ed out a silver charm and set it
    in the middle of the table.
    “Is that the charm?” Wes asked in alarm.
    “No. I bought it from a kiosk in the mall.”
    “Could be a chicken,” Hannah added.
    “The Whitt woman’s cause of death was ruled natural
    causes,” Carlotta