The Perfect Neighbor (A Jessie Hunt Psychological Suspense Thriller—Book Nine) by Blake Pierce

Author:Blake Pierce [Pierce, Blake]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: UNKNOWN
Published: 2020-10-05T18:30:00+00:00

*

Jessie stood in front of Randy Fuller, trying to get a bead on the guy. He smiled back amiably, a vague tequila haze in his eyes. The man seemed tickled to have her back.

“Lot of excitement over there,” he noted, nodding at the Landingham mansion, currently swarmed by police.

“You seem very interested,” Jessie replied. “Almost like you have a personal stake in what’s going on.”

Fuller smiled widely, squinting at her as he held up his hand to block the sun.

“Like I said, I’m a one-man neighborhood watch. I’m always interested in what happens here.”

“Randy,” she said, sitting down on the porch next to him. “Can I be straight with you?”

“I’d prefer it,” he said, taking another big glug. The massive glass was almost two-thirds empty now.

“I think you’re holding back.”

“What do you mean?” he asked coyly.

“I mean, you just reiterated that you’re a one-man neighborhood watch. You specifically referenced Carl when we spoke earlier, as if he was on your mind. I can’t help but wonder what put him there. Care to share?”

“I feel very much under attack here, Jessie,” he said, not sounding at all like he thought he was under attack.

Jessie appreciated Fuller’s curmudgeonly nature but her patience was wearing thin. Time was running short and she needed answers. She decided she needed to short-circuit his buzz.

“Randy, remember how I said I was going to be straight with you?”

“Considering that you said it thirty seconds ago, yes.”

“Right. So here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to tell me the little secret about Carl that you’re guarding so preciously and you’re going to tell me now. There’s a dead girl in that house and I’m not in the mood to play games. If you have information that can solve her murder, I want it. If you persist in playing the role of the leather-skinned, coquettish, drunken know-it-all who keeps his mouth shut and his secrets close, you’ll do it down at the station, and not this one. You’ll be getting a ride to Central Station downtown, where we’ll resume this discussion. After that, you’ll spend the night in a cell with the guys we routinely pick up for public urination. That’s where you’ll sleep off your hangover, assuming you get any sleep. It’s your call and you have five seconds to make it.”

Randy smiled back at her, apparently impressed. But she saw a sliver of apprehension behind his eyes and knew that the answers she wanted would be forthcoming.

“I saw the girl,” he admitted sullenly.

“When?”

“About ten minutes before you and Detective Hernandez stopped by. She was wearing a hoodie, thinking she was being sly, and had on a small backpack, but I recognized her. Like I said, Carl wasn’t fooling anyone. She had her own key and she used it to enter the house via the side door.”

“What else?”

“I saw Carl drive by while we were talking, headed to his place. He couldn’t have been in the house for more than two minutes before he came running out. So if you’re looking at him for this, you might reconsider.

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