Chapter Eleven
SHE DIDN’T FEEL like dressing up, so she just slipped on a sundress and a pair of sandals before heading out the door, another cup of coffee in her hand. Yet, the screaming of the unanswered questions tumbling around in her head weren’t the only disturbance to her morning. As she stepped into the condo’s corridor, the echoing of pounding on a door, as well as someone persistently screeching Clint’s name, assaulted her ears.
Karla groaned, knowing it couldn’t be Miss Fowler causing the ruckus. The woman was a snoop, but at least she was a quiet one. No, the only person who would cause such a commotion, who would disturb her peace, would be Bonnie. Karla’s temper simmered as her muscles grew taut. “Hey!” she yelled, stopping just outside her door and folding her arms across
