The mouthwatering aroma of roasted green chiles and tamales drifted out the door and filled every part of Alyssa’s olfactory sense, causing her stomach to growl. Another low grumble – this time not coming from her stomach – had her eyes shifting from the woman’s face to the dogs who sat obediently behind her, their bodies taut with barely restrained eagerness, ready to pounce at the slightest invitation. ‘Are those dogs or miniature horses?’

The woman laughed, taking her comment in stride. ‘They are humongous, aren’t they?’ Bending slightly, she reached back and patted the top of one dog’s head before repeating the motion with the other. ‘Despite what their size implies, they’re actually quite friendly. Unless you’re a bad guy; in which case, I’ve seen them nearly rip a leash in half to get to someone they don’t trust.’

‘Good to know. Yes, we’re here to speak to Angela. Is she home?’

‘She is. Why don’t you come in while I get her? My name’s Gabriella, by the way.’ She reached out slender fingers to shake their hands. ‘I’ll be right back.’ Turning to the dogs, she pointed. ‘Stay.’

The dogs followed their mistress with their heads until she was out of sight, and then they turned their attention back to the detectives as they entered the apartment, the dogs’ tongues lolling out the sides of their mouths, tails thwapping against the floor in a rhythmic beat. Less than a minute later, Gabriella returned with her daughter in tow.

Angela Kazminski wore a pair of leopard print yoga pants with a yellow blouse that hit mid-thigh. Shorter than her mother, she was also more robust, but in a healthy way, as if she wasn’t afraid to eat something besides salad. And if her mother’s cooking tasted as heavenly as it smelled, Alyssa didn’t blame her for wanting to devour more than green leaves and power foods. The expression on the girl’s face as she approached the living room was a cross between fear, hope, and nerves.

‘Angela?’ Alyssa asked.

‘Yes, ma’am. Thank you for coming.’

She made it sound as if it had been an invitation of some sort.

‘I’m Detective Wyatt. And this is my partner, Detective Roberts. We’d like to ask you a few questions regarding your dormmate.’

Angela pointed to an oversized couch that seemed entirely too large for the space it was in. ‘Do you mind if we sit?’ She laughed, a self-deprecating sound, and said, ‘I’m nervous, and I’d hate to faint on you or something.’

‘No need to be nervous. We just need to clear up a few things so we know where to direct our focus,’ Cord said, following her as she led the way to the living room.

Choosing the recliner closest to the television, Angela wrapped her legs beneath her, smiling when both dogs sidled up to either side and plopped themselves down in a semi-circle of protection around her. Keeping a careful eye on the newcomers, they rested their heads on their paws.