“Thanks for the coffee, partner.”
“Not a problem, Stan.” I say as we walk up to the porch. “What do we know about this one?”
“She’s the only witness. Maude Simmons. Single, late forties. Says she saw our perp do the deed. Poor lady. Lucky break for us though, right bud?”
“Very lucky,” I say.
Stan rings the bell. I stand with my back to the door, looking out at the neighborhood. Beautiful day. “Think she’ll talk to us?”
“Hey pal, she called it in. Why wouldn’t she?” He rings the bell again, impatiently. The inner door opens a crack. “Ms. Simmons, it’s the police. We’d just like to ask you a few questions. May we come in?”
A hand darts out, unlocks the storm door, and we make our way inside.
“Like I said outside Ms. Simmons, my partner and I would just like to ask you a few questions about the incident you witnessed,” Stan repeats. He pulls at his necktie, loosening it a bit.
“Right. Okay, sure,” she says. She looks tired, like she hasn’t been sleeping well lately. It makes sense, considering what she saw that day. She looks up at Stan and then over to me. Her mouth drops open and the color drains from her face. “You..” she stammers.
Stan repeats, oblivious, “Yes ma’am. We just want to ask you some, uh...” He coughs, and starts scratching at his throat.
Ms. Simmons stands frozen. “You...” is all she can get out. Now we’re probably both thinking about that day. What a beautiful day. Stan is on his knees, retching. I think today is going to be a beautiful day too.
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