it is.” He shrugged.
“You remember a lot more than you think. We now know that the girl was white, petite, in her late teens, wearing a dark hoodie—I assume the hood was over her head?”
“Yeah, it was.”
“Did you see her hair?”
“Blond. Hey, you’re right, I do remember a lot.” He grinned.
“Could you tell if it was long or short?”
He shook his head. “It was all tucked under the hood, but she had these long bangs that came out, that’s how I know it was blond.”
“That’s great. You said petite, but you’re pretty tall. So how short?”
Ned glanced at Lucy. “Shorter than you. Like, a lot shorter. I’d say five three, take or leave an inch. She was pretty short.”
“Was she carrying anything?” Lucy asked. “A purse or backpack?”
“Nothing. Her hands were in her pockets, like I said.”
Patrick asked, “Had you ever seen her before in the building?”
Ned shrugged. “Can’t say, probably not. Most people say hi to me because it’s like my territory, I’m there almost every night, sometimes five or six times a night.”
Lucy asked, “Did anyone else talk to you about that night, other than Officer Reynolds? Someone in law enforcement or anyone else?”
“Nope. The officer said one of the detectives investigating the murder would probably come and talk to me, just to verify everything I said and whatever, but no one did. I thought because they’d caught the guy. It was on the news yesterday. I mean, I talked to people I worked with, if that counts, because no one said not to say anything, you know?”
Patrick handed Ned his card. “If you think of anything else, please call me.”
He looked at the card. “Sure.”
“The detective will probably be back to talk to you as they work the case, make sure you tell him everything you told us.”
“Of course. Hey, my brother’s a cop in Galveston, that’s where I’m from. I totally respect those guys, so anything I can do to, like, you know, help, I will.”
“We appreciate that, Ned. Thank you.”
They left and Lucy almost didn’t wait until they left the building before she said, “Elise Hunt is five foot three and a half and blond. She dyes her hair frequently, but she was blond when I saw her yesterday.”
“If she used the stairs, that means she knew where the cameras were and that there were no cameras on the staircase. She went all the way down to the parking garage to avoid the lobby,” Patrick said. “I’m going back to Mona’s apartment and checking with all the businesses and neighbors. There’s something here, I’ll find it. I’m going to take you to the hotel.”
“I want to go with you.”
“No.”
“What do you mean no?”
“Lucy, you are married to their prime suspect. You can’t be involved at this point. You shouldn’t have even been there when I talked to Ned, but now that we have something, I have to cut you out. I’m sorry. I have to be careful as well, but if I can find one small lead I’ll push that arrogant cop to do his job or go over his head. Because the truth is here, I know it.”
“I can’t just sit around! Sean is out there, in danger, and every cop in the state will be after him unless we can clear his name and prove Hunt orchestrated this entire thing.”
“You don’t have to tell me that, Lucy. I know what’s at risk. I think the best place for you is at home, but I know you won’t do that, and the media is going to be all over the jail—eventually someone will figure out who you are and hound you. I don’t want you to go through that.”
Lucy didn’t know what to do. She’d woken up this morning knowing the situation was bad but believing that she’d see Sean and together they’d figure out how to clear his name.
But it didn’t happen.
“So the hotel is the next best option,” Patrick said. “RCK got a suite, I’ll be there as soon as I get answers.”
* * *
Erica Anderson was fucked.
A cop was dead. Her lover was in the hospital. How could this situation have gotten so out of control? This wasn’t supposed to happen!
She didn’t want to show her face at the hospital, especially now, but she couldn’t get any information from the nurses over the phone. If Tim died, all this bullshit would be for nothing. Everything she did, every crime she committed, would be for nothing if Tim was dead.
Sometimes, she didn’t