Page 74 of Close Her Eyes

“We do,” said Mettner.

Carolina took the small box of powdered detergent over to the table and started gathering up her clothes. “I wasn’t in Denton when Sharon was killed. I haven’t seen her in a long time. She doesn’t want to see me, and I don’t blame her. I never blamed her. I guess my mom told you what a screw-up I am.”

Mettner said, “Your mother told us you’ve struggled with drug addiction for a long time.”

Carolina gathered the clothes into her arms. With a sigh, she said, “You don’t have to church it up. I know what she thinks of me.”

Josie said, “We’re not here to talk about Sharon’s murder, Carolina.”

She walked to the nearest washer, but a sign taped to it read:Out of Order. “Then why are you here?”

Mettner said, “We’re here to talk about Jana Melburn.”

Her response was instant. “Who?”

“Ten years ago, you were working at a gas station in Bly,” Josie said.

Her shoulders stiffened. As she walked to the next washer, her gait was more careful. “Oh, that,” she said. “I, uh, don’t remember much about that. Like you said, ten years. I was pretty messed up back then—taking a lot of stuff—and I’ve been even more messed up since then, so I don’t think I can help you.”

As she started to stuff her clothes into the washer, one of her socks fell and landed on the floor. She bent to pick it up. For the first time, Josie noticed just how ill-fitting her T-shirt and jeans were, both too small even for her frail body. The hem of the T-shirt rose up to her rib cage, which was painfully visible. There, on the left side of her back, near her kidney area, was a small brand. It was old, the ridged skin a pale pink. Not as old as Anya’s looked, but still from a long time ago. The shape was a heart with a squiggly line going straight through it.

Josie swallowed. She looked over at Mettner to see if he’d noticed it. He gave her a small nod.

“Okay,” Josie said. “Then let’s talk about Vance Hadlee.”

Carolina came up with the sock. Her eyes bulged. “I don’t want to talk about him.”

“But you know him,” Josie said. “Pretty well, wouldn’t you say?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

Josie thought of the drugs and cash in Vance’s room. “Vance has an addiction problem, too, doesn’t he?”

Carolina turned and backed away from them until her body touched the washer. “I don’t know.”

“How did you like spending time with him on the farm? We heard he likes to entertain ladies in his workshop,” Josie said.

Mettner added, “I can’t say all the ladies enjoy it, though.”

Carolina clutched the sock to her chest, looking back and forth between them. “You think he hurt me. That’s why you’re here? He didn’t.”

Josie motioned toward her left side. “So that brand he gave you—it was consensual?”

“I said—I said it was okay. He’s weird. A little kinky, okay? We were high as hell. I didn’t care.”

Mettner said, “How long were the two of you in a relationship?”

Carolina looked down at the dirty sock, as if it might have the answers. “We weren’t in a relationship like that. It wasn’t ever serious. We just—we could be ourselves around each other. That was all.”

“What do you mean?” asked Josie.

“He never cared about me using, okay? It never bothered him. Not once. He’d come find me when he was bored or upset or he needed something. He usually complained about his dad being an asshole. Sometimes, if he was really going through it, he’d get all emotional and cry about his mom dying.”

Mettner said, “I thought his mom left when he was a kid?”

Carolina shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe she did. Maybe I’m remembering wrong. Listen, man, we’d get fucked up together, mess around a little, he’d talk or cry or whatever. I’d listen. That’s all. We weren’t ever going to get married or anything. Trust me, he is never going to get over his wife.”

“When is the last time you saw him?” asked Mettner.

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