CHAPTER SEVEN
Camille pulled the car along the curb of the Pullman residence, feeling that this particular moment was the official start to the case. Wendy Pullman had lived in a cute brick house that sat on a hill just off the road. The lawn was green, the driveway was lined with gravel, and the flowerbeds looked to have been greatly cared for. The backdrop of the forest and the swamps remained, though, bordering the yard almost like a reminder of where they were living.
Given that they were dealing with not only a woman that had just lost a daughter, but an older lady with several medical issues according to Humphrey, Camille took the lead. She knocked on the front door as bees buzzed in the flowerbeds behind them. It took about thirty seconds for Mrs. Pullman to come to the door. It o
