CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
FIVE DAYS LATER
Dee and Connie strutted into the double-doors of Brown Landscaping and stopped at the receptionist’s desk.
“Hello.” The bubbly brunette woman beamed. “You must be Detectives Quarter and Wilks.”
“Hello,” Connie said. “Is Mr. Brown in?”
“He’s expecting you. Just a second.” She lifted the receiver off her phone, pushed a button, and informed Brown of the officers’ arrival.
Moments later the elevator dinged and a medium-built white man with a large belly stuffed in a plaid shirt and worn jeans, approached Dee and Connie.
They exchanged introductions.
“What can I do for you?” Mr. Brown squinted at Dee as if he couldn’t see.
“We’re investing the murder of a young woman who lived in one of Hart Carroll’s rent homes,” Connie said.
“Wow.” He stroked his
