11
EMMY
“Leona, who’s Ottie?”
Leona gulped in air as she peered into the bathroom again, a pointless exercise if ever there was one.
“My friend. She was staying here, her dog too. They’re both gone.”
“Maybe she took the dog for a walk?”
“No, no, I always walk Gidget. Ottie never goes out, ever.” Leona looked around the room again. “But she’s not here.”
I stepped inside, checked behind the couch and down the far side of the bed because there was room to stash a body there. No Ottie. As well as the double bed at the far end, a folding cot took up most of the remaining floor space. Ottie had been sleeping on it? That meant her presence was a temporary arrangement, not a full-fledged room-share.
“Where did you leave your purse?”
“On the desk. Always on the desk.”
“What colour hair do
