Total pages in book: 144
Estimated words: 133531 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 668(@200wpm)___ 534(@250wpm)___ 445(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 133531 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 668(@200wpm)___ 534(@250wpm)___ 445(@300wpm)
She was suddenly very tense. Looking around at the other women, she had the feeling they were as well. To cover her nerves, she sipped at her coffee. She had every excuse to appear tired. She was certain the cops had reviewed the security cameras and seen her drag in at the crack of dawn holding hands with Gideon.
“What’s going on, Detectives?” Janice demanded. “If you know who broke into our apartments, it would be nice to let us in on it.”
“I wish we had that information for you,” Detective Abbott said. “We know you’ve been asked questions over and over, and you’re most likely tired of answering, but sometimes, after you’ve had time to think about it, new details come into your mind.”
Rory couldn’t imagine what new details they were looking for.
“We’d like you to re-create the day Detective Ramsey was killed, where each of you were sitting when you first heard the gunshots and what you were doing. What you said and did and what you saw,” Detective Larrsen added.
“We always meet in this room to sort our mail, visit and have coffee,” Janice said. “It’s always in the afternoon because Rory, Pam and I work at night and sleep in. Sally arranges her schedule around our times. Cindy and Lydia work from home, so they do as well.”
“Do you always meet at the same time?” Detective Abbott asked.
“Yes, around three. That gives everyone time to work out if they want to before we meet here,” Sally said. “And I can finish my dog grooming appointments.”
“You’ve been meeting like this for how long?” Detective Wilson asked. “And how often?”
“Tuesdays and Thursdays are here for coffee,” Lydia said. “Workouts are Monday, Wednesday and Friday. We started meeting regularly about six months ago. Rory and Sally moved in later and joined us a little over four months ago.”
Rory could see that all three detectives were keeping separate notes. She studied their faces carefully under the veil of her lashes. None of them had the underlying anger that Westlake displayed or the accusatory glare Detective Carver sometimes seemed to have in his eyes when he looked at them. It didn’t seem as if they believed the women were guilty of conspiring to withhold evidence from the police as Westlake and Carver did.
“These are the seats you commonly sit in? The same ones you were sitting in that day Detective Ramsey came into the room with you?” Detective Abbott asked.
Janice looked around and nodded. “We all got in the habit of sitting in the same spots, so we tend to always take the same seats.”
“What were you doing?” Abbott asked.
“Drinking coffee. Sorting mail. We toss the junk mail,” Lydia explained. “I had Ellen with me. Cindy didn’t have the boys that day.”
Cindy shook her head. “No, I didn’t, and I’m so grateful. They were visiting my parents. We were laughing and talking, and then we heard a very distinctive popping sound. It was definitely gunfire in the apartments on the main floor. We all jumped up.”
“A man came in through the side door. We’d never seen him before.” Lydia took up the narrative. “He had blood on his chest and thigh and a gun in his hand. I scooped up Ellen and ran toward the back door of the lounge. It exits into the back hall. I was so scared for Ellen.”
“I ran too,” Pam said.
“He was staggering,” Janice added. “And yelling for us to run, so I did. I followed Sally and Pam out.”
Rory put her coffee on the end table and pressed her hand over her heart. “We were all on our feet running toward the door, but I felt terrible leaving him like that. He was clearly hurt. I turned back and saw the side door swing open.” She pointed to it. “That’s the door he came through. Someone was firing at him, and he was firing back. He yelled at me to run again, and Cindy pulled me to the back door. That was the last I saw of him. We ran down the hall to the back exit of the apartment building. Once we were in the gardens, we were all calling 911.”
“You saw the door open, as if whoever had shot at him chased him into the lounge where you were?” Detective Abbott persisted.
Rory nodded. “Yes. The door was flung open so hard it hit the stop and then banged back. I could see the flash of a gun.”
“Did you see who was firing? A man? A woman? Any impression?” Abbott persisted.
“I didn’t. Whoever it was stood to the side of the door, because the detective was firing back at them.”
“What about a hand around the gun? Were they wearing a glove?” Detective Larrsen persisted.
Rory pressed her fingers to her eyes. “I wish I had an answer for you. He yelled, ‘Get out of here,’ and I did.” She looked at Cindy. “Did you see anything?”