Page 53 of Done Dirty

“Maybe we just haven’t found her body yet.”

“Chilling thought.”

“We need to find her,” Jack said.

We left the condo, and Jack was locking up when the door across the hall swung open.

There was a thin man in his mid-forties with wire-rimmed glasses, a Virginia Tech T-shirt, and flamboyant American flag shorts that showed off knobby knees.

“Oh thank God,” he said, pressing a hand to his chest. “I was starting to think no one was ever coming back. Gerald Fitch.” He extended his hand to Jack and then to me like someone who attended a lot of networking events. “I live directly across from the scene of the crime, which, I have to say, has made the last two days absolutely surreal.”

“Sheriff Lawson,” Jack said. “This is Dr. Graves. Did you know Mr. Rivers?”

“Know him?” Gerald pressed his lips together. “I knew of him, which was more than enough. This hallway was like a runway show on a good night. Women coming and going at all hours, primping in the elevator mirror—yes, I’ve seen them, the elevator has a very flattering light and they all know it. And he runs a business out of his condo. Monkey business if you ask me. That’s got to be illegal. I complained to Jessica three times. Three. And every time she looked at me like I’d asked her to deport someone she loved. I don’t know what that man had over her but whatever it was, it worked.”

“You weren’t home Wednesday morning when we canvassed the floor,” Jack said.

“I’m in the office by six. I’m an actuary. We don’t sleep in.” He waved a hand as if this was common knowledge. “I heard you knocked.”

“Were you home Tuesday night?” Jack asked.

“I was.” He adjusted his glasses. “I went to bed at ten thirty just like always. I have a very consistent sleep schedule. But before that I took my trash to the chute at the end of the hall, which is when I saw her.”

“Saw who?” Jack asked.

Gerald brightened. This was clearly the part he’d been waiting for, and he leaned in to share whatever juicy tidbit he’d been holding.

“Like I said, I was taking my trash down to the chute when this woman got off the elevator.” He put his hand on his hip. “Petite. And she had great hair. That silvery blond that you can only get in a salon. That color is hard to maintain. My friend Kevin tried to do it, but it got too expensive and then his hair fell out when he tried to do it at home.” Gerald sighed and shook his head. “Anyway, she was wearing this little black dress that didn’t leave a lot to the imagination. I haven’t had a lot of experience with breasts, but I don’t think hers were real. But she was gorgeous in a Sydney Sweeney kind of way if that’s your type—” he gestured to himself, “obviously it’s not mine.”

“You saw her go to Wade’s condo?”

“Oh yeah,” he said. “She didn’t even realize I was there. She rang the bell and then she was inside a second later. I heard her giggling just before the door slammed.”

“You didn’t recognize her?” I asked.

“I might have seen her a time or two before. I try not to spy on my neighbors. Though in my opinion Wade could’ve been more circumspect. I looked out my window once and he was doing it in the pool like some porn star. I reported that too, and I thought for sure Jessica would do something about it because she was pissed. But who knows?”

“Did you hear her leave?” Jack asked.

“No,” he said. “But these condos are soundproof, and I sleep with my sound machine on and my blackout curtains drawn. I sleep like a baby at night.”

“I need to have one of my deputies stop by and take a formal statement from you,” Jack said. “Maybe show you a few pictures and see if you can point her out.”

“Of course I can point her out,” he said, indignantly. “I have an excellent memory. Oh, and sheriff, make sure you send a cute deputy. I could use a little fireworks.”

He closed the door in our faces, and I looked at Jack as I tried to hold in a laugh.

“Well,” I said. “Who are you going to send?”

“Too bad Martinez is out for the weekend,” Jack said. “It would be worth it just to hear the replay.”

I laughed as we headed back to the elevator and downstairs.

Ben was right where we’d left him, and Jack handed the key back.

“Who has access to master keys?” Jack asked him.

“We keep them locked in the manager’s office,” he said. “Anyone who takes one has to sign for it. Jessica signed for yours since you’re law enforcement.”