“No. Sorry. It was rather dark.”

She nodded. Even if it had been light out, there’s a good chance the tattoo would have been covered anyway. “What can you tell us about the man?”

“Not a lot. He was nice-looking, I guess. I’d definitely say he was older than the girls.”

“Approximate age, if you were to guess?” she prompted.

“Late twenties, early thirties.”

A little younger than the man that Chris Ingram had described, but age was so subjective. “What about hair color and build?”

“Brown hair, average size.”

Generic, like the portrait Chris Ingram had painted. “How was he dressed?”

“All in black.”

“Have you ever seen him or the girls in the neighborhood before?” Trent asked.

Justin looked at Trent and shook his head.

“So you saw them at midnight,” Trent began, circling back toward the start of the conversation, it would seem. “Why were you up then?”

“Am I a suspect here?”

“Not at all,” Amanda assured him. “But Trent’s question is still valid.”

Justin grimaced, seemingly not soothed by her response. “I was getting ready for bed, if you must know. I have a habit of making sure my doors are all locked, and when I do, I look out the windows. It was when I was at the front door that I saw the three of them.”

It was probably a good time to ask the question Amanda had burning inside of her. “Why didn’t you call the police?”

“I was exhausted and wanted to go to bed.”

“But you knew the house was vacant, and he wasn’t the real estate agent. Then there’s the two young women appearing to be drunk off their feet. None of this seemed hinky to you?” she asked him, putting it out there as casually as possible.

“Honestly?” Justin sighed.

“That would be refreshing.” Amanda gave him an encouraging smile.

“I didn’t know what they were up to, and I didn’t want the police showing up and it being something innocent that I had misinterpreted, making me look like a fool. And if it was something, and they were up to no good and found out that I’d snitched… I just didn’t want to draw a target on my head.”

A target? He’d probably read the article about Fox’s mutilation. Her mind skipped to Malone’s idea of a tip line. Would anyone call? She needed to stress the importance of speaking up. “We’ll only grow stronger as a community if we look out for each other, Mr. Cooper.”

“I appreciate that, but—” he shook his head “—I didn’t want to get involved. As I said, I was tired and wanted to go to bed.”

She mulled over what he’d told them so far and what else he might know that could help them, then landed on something. “Did you see what direction they came from?” If he had, they could backtrack the trio’s steps and maybe get somewhere useful.

“Yeah. From that direction.” Justin pointed a finger and indicated the west.

Stashing that fact away, she pulled out her business card and got to her feet. She extended it to Justin, who asked that she put it on his side table.

“Germs,” he mumbled.

“May I suggest something, Mr. Cooper?” Amanda started. “Continue to lock your windows and doors, and if anyone comes to your door that you don’t know, talk to them through the door. Don’t let them in, no matter what. Even if they say they’re a reporter or a cop, you call me.”

Justin glanced at the card and then back to her. “Will do.”

“Thank you.” Amanda didn’t want to frighten him, but she felt it necessary to warn him to be diligent. The killer they were after was unpredictable and looking for a reason to kill. Exhibit A: Shannon Fox. She didn’t want to add Justin Cooper to the list of victims.

Tags: Carolyn Arnold Thriller
Source: readsnovelonline.net