Chapter 16
Saturday 17 January 2032
Aretha had received another message from Charlene. The team had been getting anxious, both pleased because no other bodies had turned up and worried that perhaps Charlene wasn’t going to respond to the message on the dating site. Maise read the text out loud. The tone of her voice showed her distaste for what she was reading.
“Yo, Aretha. Great to hear from you. You named after our dear sister, the legend Aretha Franklin? You sing like her? You shimmy like her? Damn, I bet you look fine on the dance floor.”
Maise wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry. Did the sender of the message – ostensibly a twenty-five-year-old black woman – really think black people spoke like that? Maise was convinced that this could be the killer.
Bell me, sister. You got my n
