He drug his fingers through his hair. “Everything, and not damn enough.”
“Agreed.”
His phone rang. He silenced it, lingering on the blinking red light a moment before shaking his head. “It never stops. Never fucking stops. Anyway—what are your initial thoughts?”
“Do you have old man Erickson’s interview notes?”
“Yeah.” Colson picked up his notebook and tossed it into my hands.
I flipped through the pages. “Geez, dude, did you sleep through handwriting in school? How the hell is anyone supposed to read this scribble?”
He snatched it back. “What do you need to know? You’re such an asshole.”
“Did Erickson mention anything about seeing a third person?”
“No.”
“You’re sure he said he only saw Sunny and Julian?”
“Right.”
“Did he sayspecificallythat he saw Sunny Harper shoot Julian in the head?”
Colson skimmed his notes. “Yes.”
“Impossible.”
“Why?”
“The attack happened between lampposts. I couldn’t even make out her face, or hell, the fact that she was a woman, when I rushed the scene. There’s no way he actually saw her face, or anything more than two dark silhouettes—especially at his age. He’s just assuming.”
“Then you’re assuming that when Erickson said he saw Sunny with Julian in a bear hold before shooting him, that it wasn’t Sunny. It was the third person?”
“Yes. According to Sunny, she was on the ground at that moment.”
“If she’s telling the truth.”
“We need to follow up with Erickson. Ask him specifically. We also need to have ballistics check the pin markings on the casing I found to see if it matches Sunny’s gun. If the markings do match then that means Julian was shot by her gun and that she’s lying. If the markings don’t match, it confirms a third player.”
Colson nodded, scribbled on the pad.
I began pacing. “This wasn’t a mugging gone bad. Her attacker didn’t ask for any personal items, didn’t take the key from her pocket, nothing. She said he didn’t even speak.”
“Personal, then?”
“Possibly, but she says she doesn’t know him. Or it could be some cracked-out drug addict tripping his balls off.”
“What about the abduction theory?”
“Eighty percent of women who are abducted are taken by someone they know.”
“Good point. What else do we know about her right now? Other than her ability to get out of speeding tickets.”
“I’ve got Darby looking into her now—Google, social media, any records, anything. And I’m going to sync up with the dog breeder she said she visited. Try to get some more insight on her and confirm she was where she said she was, and ask if they noticed anyone following her.”
Colson fisted his hands on his hips. “Okay. We’ve got two scenarios as of right now, then. One: this woman—what do you think she is? A buck ten?—is able to hold off an attacker twice her size until her mystery guardian angel shows up and kills the guy for her. Or, two, she’s lying and she killed the guy, and there is no third guy. She could know Griggs, the vic, and is lying. He could be an ex-lover.”
“Okay, going with your option one, then, Sunny Harper is an innocent victim in a shitty attack. She’s banged up, which can confirm that story. Check that box. It is also plausible that a woman of her size could hold off an attacker if it’s true that she’s skilled in Krav Maga, which I’ll verify. Considering the physicality of it, it is also plausible that in the scuffle she dropped her gun, leaving her defenseless and allowing this third mystery person to shoot. The smoke clears and she’s staring down the barrel of Erickson’s pistol, and freezes. Then we show up.”
