We park at our next stop – the victim’s home. She wasn’t living in the mansion, because it was too damaged to be used as a permanent residence. She was trying to change that by renovating it, but I guess the mansion will stay as it is now.
She lived in an apartment building a little outside the French Quarter. There are ten other apartments inside it and I intend to question all of her neighbors. Since we haven’t found a proper suspect yet, we’ve got to start somewhere.
“Oh, Abigail? She was a sweetheart. Always fed my cats when I was out of town. Such a shame that she’s gone,” her nearest neighbor tells us.
“I didn’t know her all that well. Barely even met her. Though, I heard she had some beef with the guy that lives in the apartment above hers,” the neighbor on her right reveals. He’
