"Not yet,” Manny replied, sounding like someone who was barely awake. “Why?"
"Just wondered what you both made of Rex's statement that Candy Jackson visited Lana the afternoon of the fire."
Manny yawned. “Rex needs his eyes checked. Ms. Jackson was sharing coffee and cake with three friends at your dad's diner all afternoon."
Another chill ran through her. Candy was at the diner? That wasn't good. She really did have to talk to her parents, and as quickly as possible.
"Did you know she cleaned Lana's house twice a week?"
"Yeah. But she said she'd changed that day's appointment so she could meet her friends."
"Then you're not putting much stock in Rex's report?"
"Not when so many people saw her at the diner."
"What if I told you there's a woman in town who could pass as Candy's twin?"
"Then I'd have to say the Marshall wouldn't mind talking to her. You're going to question her?"
"If we can find her."
"If you do, let me know."
"Will do."
She hung up and rapped on the front door. Candy's neighbor turned out to be a woman in her early thirties who had three screaming kids hanging off her apron and who didn't seem to realize the woman in the photo resembled Candy. Savannah tried several other houses, more for effect than any real desire to ask questions. Then she finally moved towards Candy's house.
The curtains closed as she opened the front gate. Music played softly inside the house—classical rather than modern. The melody sounded vaguely familiar, though she couldn't quite place where she'd heard it before.
She walked up the front steps, scanning the front windows and the glass panels beside the wooden front door. No movement could be seen through any of them, but someone was home. The delicious scent of baking bread filled the air.
There was no doorbell, so she rapped on the screen door. The sound seemed to echo, as if the house was empty. There was no immediate response, but just as she was about to knock again, footsteps approached. She slipped the plastic cover from the photo, holding it carefully by one edge as she shoved the cover into her pocket, out of sight.
The door opened, and Denny's wet-dream appeared—complete with micro skirt and barely-there red top. There was, Savannah noticed, no bandage on her left arm, so it definitely wasn't Candy who she'd attacked last night. But it was easy to see why the teenager had been willing to do anything this woman asked. He must have thought all his Christmases had come at once.
"Candy Jackson?” She flared her nostrils, taking in the scents flowing from the doorway. Aside from the rich aroma of baking, the air itself smelled musty and damp, like an old cellar that had been closed up for a very long time. There was also a hint of ginger, but it didn't seem to belong to the house but rather to someone in the house. Odd, given Candy smelled of a mix of citrus and cigarette smoke.
"What can I do for you, Ranger?” The blonde caught a small rose-shaped pendant between two fingers and began running it back and forth across what looked to be a silver chain, which was an odd choice of jewelry. For a wolf, silver was as dangerous as a stake supposedly was to vampires. Not that she'd ever met a vampire or tested the theory out.
"Wondering if you knew this woman.” She held out the photo, but she held no real hope of getting Cade a fingerprint. Candy obviously had no intention of opening the screen door, let alone touching the photo.
Candy's gaze dropped briefly. “She looks like me."
"Yes, she does."
"It's not me, you know."
"No. Her name is Lonny Jackson. Is she your sister by any chance?"
With the grubby screen door between them, it was a little hard to judge the woman's reactions. Yet, Savannah was certain she caught the flicker of amusement in the woman's cold, blue eyes.
But her voice was as flat as ever, giving little away as she said, “If she is, then she's one I don't know about."
"So she could be a half sister?"
Candy shrugged. “Possibly. My dad didn't mind spreading it around. Of course, he's been dead for quite a few years, so you can't really ask him. What do you want her for?"
"To question her about an incident at Club Grange last night."