Detective Puhl sighed. “We follow up on all leads as appropriate,” she said dismissively. She wrote something down and then looked up. “The night you dropped him off… Did you see him with the deceased?”

She asked it so casually, and my stomach flipped over at the phrase. Since I’d arrived, she’d been tossing around phrases like the body, the deceased, and the victim, and I wanted to scream at her that she was talking about a real person.

“No,” I said slowly. I took a deep breath. “But I did see him with someone.”

“Did you?” she asked. “And how did you happen to see that?”

“Well, he got out of the car, and I was still there for a little bit, you know, wrapping up the ride.”

“Okay…”

“He was walking across the street, and I saw a woman watching him out a window.”

“You saw someone watching him?” Detective Puhl asked, raising an eyebrow. “Not with him?”

“Well, she was on the second floor of the apartment, and she was sort of…pressed against the window,” I said. “I could tell that she wanted him to see her. You know what I mean?”

Both detectives stared at me, and I swallowed. The words felt silly on my lips, but I pushed on anyway.

“She wasn’t…” I cleared my throat. “She wasn’t wearing much.”

It was an understatement, but it didn’t seem like the time or place to go into detail. The woman had been framed clearly in the light of the window, her chin-length blond hair grazing her collarbone. She was wearing a red lace bra beneath a sheer, black nightdress, the windowsill cutting her off right at the top of her hip bone.

And she’d just stood there, peering down into the darkness. Even from the distance, I could see the smile that tugged at the corners of her lips.

“Okay, Mrs. Wilson,” Detective Puhl said, jolting me from the memory. She tossed another glance at her partner and then stood up. “Is it all right if I call you Paula?”

“Yes,” I said.

She nodded. “Is there anything else you want to tell us, Paula?”

I blinked before shaking my head and leaning down to pick up my purse from the floor.

“No, that’s all,” I said. “I just thought you should know that he was there a week before the murder, and that I’m almost positive he’s the one who broke into my apartment.”

“Okay,” Detective Puhl said again. “Thanks for coming in. We’ll definitely look into it, and we’ll be in touch if we have any more questions for you. You won’t be hard to get ahold of, will you?”

I frowned. “No,” I said. “Of course not.”

I was turning toward the door when Detective Greg spoke up.

“I have a question for you,” he said.

I stopped and turned back to face him.

“Did you ever go back?”