back rump standing on end. It released a low growl.
“Easy, Critter,” she murmured.
Critter was a forty- to fifty-pound mutt that looked like a Frankenstein that had been given the worst attributes of several breeds—an underbite, short golden hair, and a four-inch-long tail with a tuft of hair on the end. Its head looked disproportionately small, and its back legs seemed longer than the front.
“Where’s your uniform?” Melody asked. “And who’s she?”
“I’m not here on official business,” he said, taking a step closer. His crutch slid and he struggled to maintain his balance. “And this here’s Carly. She’s Max’s new waitress, fillin’ in for Lula while she’s gone.”
She looked down her nose at me. Literally. But her gaze seemed unfocused. Was she high? “Greta said Lula came back.”
“She did, but she’s gone again,” Marco said. “We’re tryin’ to find her.”
“What’s that got to do with Greta?”
“We’re not sure,” Marco said. “Can we come inside and talk?”
Melody’s face scrunched as she considered his request. Then she said, “No. Right here suits me just fine.”
It suited me too. I wasn’t sure I could make it the rest of the way to the porch without falling on my face, and Marco wouldn’t fare much better. Then there was the fact that I just plain didn’t trust her. There was no telling what she’d do to us inside.
Marco seemed to take her answer in stride. “I heard that Greta never came home last night. Is that unusual?”
“Not when she has a man,” Melody said, resting her hand on the porch railing. The dog sniffed at her slipper, and she gave him a kick.
I grimaced as the dog let out a yelp and skittered a couple of feet behind her.
Marco ignored the dog and asked, “Does Greta have a man right now?”
“Nope.”
“Any idea where she could be?” I asked.
She turned her hardened gaze on me. “Who are you again?”
“Carly. Carly Moore.” I considered moving closer to offer my hand for a shake, but I didn’t think falling on my butt would make a good impression. Besides, she didn’t seem the mannerly type.
“Well, Carly Moore, I’m not sure why it’s any of your business where my sister is.”
“Carly’s helpin’ me out,” Marco said, shooting me a look that said, Let me handle this. When he turned back to Melody, he said, “Has Greta felt threatened?”
That got Melody’s attention. “How do you mean?”
“Has she said anything about someone watchin’ her?” Marco asked. “Or someone warnin’ her to be quiet or threatening to hurt her?”
“Nope.”
“Was Greta excited about Lula bein’ back?” I asked.
Marco shot me a dirty look again.
“She ain’t got many friends,” Melody said. “Anyone smart moves on from this godforsaken place.”
“Why hasn’t Greta moved on?” I asked.
Melody was silent for a moment. “She stayed to help me. I got me a pack of kids and my man ran off. She helps bring in money.”
As if on cue, a little boy’s dirty face appeared between two curtains in the window.
“So she was happy to have her friend back?” I asked.
“Lula told her she was stickin’ around for a while, but Greta was worried her ex would run her off again.”
“Her ex?” I asked trying not to sound too excited at the prospect of getting a new piece of information. “Do you know who that is?”
She shook her head. “Shoot, Greta doesn’t know him from Adam. She only knows he’s some married bigwig. But Lula stopped seeing him a while back, and then someone came around the café last week, asking about Lula.”
“Wait,” I said, “if she didn’t know who Lula was seeing, then how did she know it was Lula’s ex?”
“Because it weren’t Lula’s ex,” Melody said as though I was too stupid to understand. “It was someone askin’ on her ex’s behalf.”
Why hadn’t Greta shared that information? “Did she know who the messenger was?”
“She said he worked up in Ewing.”
So she knew something about him. Was that because she’d recognized him, or had he introduced himself?
“Did she say where?” Marco asked.
She hesitated, then shook her head. “No.”
Marco leaned into his right crutch, and he seemed to be having trouble keeping his balance in the slippery mud. “Melody, do you have a photo of Greta I can show around?”
For the first time, Melody looked worried. “Show around where?”
“I’m not sure yet, but it could prove helpful.”
“Do you think something bad’s happened to her?” she asked, coming down a step.
“I don’t know,” Marco said. “You might be a better judge of that. You don’t seem all that worried. If