The Alibi - Page 62

A freckle.

“I think she had a molelike thing,” Daniels said. “It wasn’t ugly. More like a freckle. Under her eye.”

“Do you remember—” Steffi began.

“Which eye?” Smilow asked, finishing her thought.

The right.

“Uh, let’s see, I was facing her… so that means it would be… her left. No, wait, her right. Definitely her right,” Daniels said, pleased that he could be so helpful and provide this detail.

“Were you close enough to see the color of her eyes?”

“No. ’Fraid not.”

Green, flecked with brown. Widely spaced. Dark lashes.

“How tall was she, Mr. Daniels?”

Five-six.

“Taller than you,” he said, answering Steffi. “But several inches shorter than Mr. Smilow here.”

“I’m five-ten,” he offered.

“So about five-six or -seven?” Steffi asked, doing the math in her head.

“About that, I’d say.”

“Weight?”

One hundred and fifteen.

“Not much.”

“One thirty?” Smilow ventured.

“Less than that, I think.”

“Do you happen to remember what she was wearing?” Steffi wanted to know. “Slacks? Or shorts? A dress?”

A skirt.

“Either shorts or a skirt. I’m sure because you could, you know, see her legs.” Daniels squirmed. “Some kinda top. I don’t remember the color or anything like that.”

White skirt. Brown knit tank top and matching cardigan. Brown leather sandals. No stockings. Beige lace brassiere that closed in front. Matching panties.

Endicott began gathering up her supplies and stuffing them into the overstuffed black bag. Smilow took the sketch from her and then shook hands with Mr. Daniels. “We have your number in Macon if we need to contact you. Hopefully this will be sufficient. Thank you so much.”

“Same for me,” Steffi said, smiling at the man before following Smilow toward the door.

Having no voice, Hammond merely nodded a goodbye to Mr. Daniels. Out in the hallway, Smilow and Steffi profusely thanked the artist before she got into the elevator.

They stayed behind to study the sketch and congratulate themselves. “So that’s our mystery woman,” Smilow remarked. “She doesn’t look like a murderess, does she?”

“What does a murderess look like?”

“Good point, Steffi.”

Tags: Sandra Brown Romance
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