“Yeah. Did you hang out with her here?” I jerk my thumb toward the door. “At the pool or other facilities?”
“Um… no. I don’t really socialize. With anyone.”
“Why not? You’re in school, aren’t you?”
“No.” She shakes her head. “I graduated two years ago.”
“Oh? You look so young.”
She chuckles. “Well, I’m not ancient. I’m twenty-three.”
“I see.”
“How old are you?” she asks, handing me a small glass or water with one ice cube.
“Twenty-seven.”
“You look older.”
Well, what do you say to that?’ “Thanks?” I must have said the right thing because she laughs again. “I’mnot ancient.” I may as well play along.
“No.” She chuckles. “You’re not ancient either.” She moves closer and stops. I’m not sure what she wants, so when she waves me off, I get it. I’m supposed to move out of the kitchen doorway so she can leave. I move to the side and let her pass. She’s so close we almost touch. I can’t help noticing how good she smells. It’s sweet, pretty. Like her.
Okay. I don’t know if she’s sweet. Pretty, definitely. But from the two times I’ve interacted with her, sweet isn’t a word I’d use to describe her. Leery is one. Tentative and shy, definitely.
“So, you didn’t socialize with Kara. But you saw her now and then?” I ask.
“When she was here before, I’d see her down in the laundry room, in the lobby, that sort of thing. But we never said more than one or two words to each other.”
“Did she have other friends from the complex?”
“Not that I know of. She had visitors, but I didn’t make it a point to check out everyone who passed through her doorway.”
“So, how do you know about the redhead?”
“I told you this already,” she says, sounding irritated.
“One more time, please.”
“Fine.” She huffs. “I was coming up from the laundry room. The redhead was knocking on Kara’s door.”
“And what time was this?”
“Around ten.”
“How can you be sure?”
“Because I set my timer on my phone to remind me to get my clothes out of the dryer. If you don’t do that around here, people either dump your stuff on the floor or take it.” She pauses. “Or both.”
Picking up my phone, I search my photos for the mug shot of Tayler. Holding it out to her, I ask, “Is this the redhead?”
She nods. “I think so. I saw her from the back mostly but also in profile.”
I turn my phone and bring up Tayler’s photo in profile. “This her?”
“Yeah.” She nods, looking solemn.
“Did you see anyone else approach Kara’s door that night?”
