Trent leaned in toward the screen, and he shook his head. “It’s rather grainy. Nadia said there was a still shot. Even pixelated, it would be better than this.”
“Let’s see.” Amanda opened the JPEG.
“It’s clearer, but still not great.”
“Is it her?”
Trent angled his head left, then right, then left again. “It’s a little hard for me to say. This woman’s the right size anyway. I was fooling myself to think I’d recognize a face when I didn’t get a solid look at her.”
“I get it.” And she did. If only positive thinking magically manifested things into reality. “We can go talk to Sharp’s neighbor, see if she did.”
“I’d just be happy if she was more certain about what she saw. But, wow, I’m still reeling from Nadia’s update. A contractkiller site on the dark web. There’s nothing too depraved for some people.”
Though should this really surprise them? Trafficking children and people was right up there, and she and Trent were given a front-row seat to that horror show a few years ago. “Nope. Time to update Malone.”
THIRTY-EIGHT
Amanda and Trent stopped by Malone’s office and filled him in. After telling him about Nadia’s phone call, his thoughts tracked with theirs. It was unsettling such sites existed. Not that the depravity in this world should shock them working in law enforcement. He wished them luck with Sharp’s neighbor, Paris Dobson, who had seen the mystery jogger.
The humidity was heavy in the air even at four o’clock as they made their way up the woman’s front walkway.
Amanda rang the doorbell, and a woman in her forties answered, wiping her hands on a white apron she was wearing.
“Yes?” She spoke through a crack in the door, and only propped it open farther after Amanda and Trent held up their badges. Red stains were left where she’d wiped her hands. “I’ve been a little on edge ever since…” She nudged her head toward Dominique Sharp’s house across the street.
“I understand.” And Amanda did. Being back on Charmed Court days later, the air held a tangible feeling of darkness. “But you have no reason to worry. Just to confirm, you are Paris Dobson?” She’d seen her license photo, but a verbal confirmation neverhurt.
“I am, but I would disagree withnoreason to worry. A woman was murdered just feet away. What’s to say the killer won’t come back to this neighborhood again?”
Amanda considered what she was going to say.It is just as likely lightning would strike the same place twice… Though that is possible…She settled on, “There’s nothing to indicate this person will be back.”Simple works…
“If you’re sure…” By the tone of the woman’s voice, she wasn’t.
“Could we come in for a moment?” Amanda asked. “We have a question about your statement to Officer Wyatt.”
“I told him everything, but okay.” Paris opened the door wider and stepped back to let Amanda and Trent inside.
The smell of strawberries and sugar floated to the front step and permeated the home. Amanda inhaled with great appreciation, as she was flooded with memories from living at home with her parents. “We shouldn’t be long and value your cooperation. Are you making strawberry jam?” She tried to hold back the latter bit, but she was experiencing sensory overload.
Paris smiled. “I am. It’s something I do twice every summer. I also pickle cucumbers and make blackberry jam toward September.”
Amanda would love to share this experience with Zoe. It would be a fun and productive project they could do together. And it sounded amazing, until Amanda’s imagination carried on. She could see red stains everywhere. Zoe was far from a baby, but she still often wore her food. And getting her to tidy up after herself was getting harder by the day. “Well, lucky you.”
“Yes, well, you said you wouldn’t be long. I need to get my jam in jars.”
“Of course. Is there somewhere we could sit?” Amanda jabbed her gaze toward a side sitting room.
Paris took them in there, gesturing for them to sit wherever they would like. Both Amanda and Trent sat on the couch.
“I’m just going to remain standing, if it’s all the same to you.” Paris pointed at the mess on her apron.
Amanda nodded. “You told Officer Wyatt that you saw a woman on Friday night. Could you run us through that again?”
Paris recounted what Amanda had read in Wyatt’s report, but it wasn’t verbatim.
This went far in convincing Amanda that Paris was being truthful and accurate to her knowledge. But this also flagged a discrepancy in how Wyatt had interpreted her statement. “And you’re sure that’s what you saw?”
“Yes, she was just jogging in place out front of the house across the street.”
