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Chapter 5

I heard Detective Simms sigh and murmur, “Moron.”

I frowned. “Was I supposed to hear you say that?”

“Well, you did, right? So, the man who almost knocked you over was wearing jeans and a hooded sweatshirt?” His thumbs moved rapidly as he spoke.

I bit back a growl. “Dark blue jeans with bleach spots and a gray hoodie. Slender. Caucasian. He looked back at me briefly and I got the impression of, I don’t know, brown or gray eyes and stringy blond hair, blotchy skin. Maybe he had acne, or something. In his twenties.”

Simms threw his hands in the air, tablet still held in a firm grip. “Jesus, how dumb are you? This is a fucking important clue. Anything else you might have seen that you didn’t tell us?”