While this spot, if anything, had grown seedier since her time on the force. The trees and bushes were overgrown, and it didn’t appear as if public dollars were going to be spent anytime soon on creating recreation paths for joggers.
Lutz lifted his shoulders. “That’s what she claimed, and she’s sticking with the story. Making noises about needing to get to work, so if you want to talk to her, might need to make it quick.”
“Did you see anything else? Anyone else in the area?”
This time it was Tready who answered. His low rumbling voice matched his craggy features. “No one. But the usual freaks who hang out here would have taken off first sign of a uniform.”
Nate nodded and dug in his pocket for a card. Handed it to Lutz. “Take the other officers and canvass the nearest neighbors. Write it up and send it to me at the homicide unit.” He headed in the direction of the witness, who was sitting on the edge of the backseat in one of the squad cars, feet on the ground, with a huge brindle mastiff planted squarely between them.
Risa hesitated. No matter how much she regretted coming, she was stuck for the moment. And following the detective took her farther away from the blackened figured in the scorched grass. The distance would be welcome. She trailed after McGuire, who was already speaking to the witness.
“Missus,” she was correcting him, one hand on the dog’s neck. “Like I told them officers, I brought Buster out for a run. I just live over on Kellogg.”
If Risa remembered correctly, Kellogg was a street of tired row houses, in a neighborhood still clinging to a fraying aura of respectability. Of course, that had been five years ago. Things changed fast in urban centers, and north Philly had long been one of the roughest areas of the city.
“You live there alone?”
Impatience settled on the woman’s face. “I’ve been through this once already. I live with my husband. He drives a semi. I work a split shift at Stacy’s Diner, on Seventeenth and Spruce, and I’m way late. Hal—that’s my boss—is going to be a total prick about it, too. So if you could write me something, maybe on police letterhead, telling him I was helping you, it would go a long way.”
“We can work something out. So you were heading to work earlier?”
Letting out a stream of breath, Bixby leaned forward to give the dog an affectionate pat. “I came to run Buster like I do every morning. My shift starts at eight, so we left the house at five or so.”
“And you always come here?”
The woman’s hesitation was infinitesimal. “In winter we stick to the sidewalks. But yeah, when it’s nice we come here sometimes.”
“Reason I ask, it’s not the best area.” McGuire seemed impervious to the morning chill in the air, although it had Marisa turning up the collar of her spring coat. “This is a known spot for drugs.”
The woman lifted a shoulder. “Users, not dealers. And not this time of day, anyway. Doesn’t matter. No one bothers me when I have Buster with me.” She gave the animal a vigorous ear rub, which had it closing its eyes in canine ecstasy.
The woman was lying. McGuire had to realize it. But his voice was easy when he asked, “Did you see anyone else around this morning?” When she shook her head vigorously, he pressed, “Even in the distance? Someone running off, maybe?”
“No, it was just me and Buster. He was straining at the leash, dragging me toward . . . that.” Marisa resisted the impulse to turn her head in the direction the woman pointed. The longer she could put off looking at the victim, the longer she could dodge recalling elements from the dream. “I got close enough to realize it was something dead. Burned. Didn’t know if it was human but I called nine-one-one anyway.” Her heavily made up eyes gleamed avidly. “It is, though, isn’t it? Human. You all wouldn’t be so interested otherwise.”
The detective reached in his pocket and withdrew a business card to give to her. “If your boss gives you any trouble, let me know and I’ll call him.” He accurately read the doubt flickering on the woman’s face. “The cell is department issued. It’ll show up on his ID screen.”
Shrugging, she slipped it into her pocket. “So I can leave?”
“Has a tech taken a sample of the dog’s hair yet?”