“Thanks.”
“This says you were… twenty-three at the time.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“And you never saw his face?”
“No, ma’am.”
“So it couldn’t have been this man.” She whipped out the pic of Stadler and placed it on the coffee table.
The girl visibly flinched. “Uh, no. No, that couldn’t be him.”
“But you said you couldn’t see him.”
“No, ma’am.”
“So how do you know that’s not him?”
“I don’t. I guess… That’s not him,” she repeated.
“I see. Did you know the same man who assaulted you seems to have assaulted six other young women in the area?”
Her eyes went wide. “Before or after?”
“Actually, you were only the second of seven we had reported.”
“So one before me and some after me?”
“Yes.”
“That means I couldn’t have helped the one before me.”
Yep. She knows it was him. “No. Not the one before you. But you could help all of them now.”
“I can’t. I didn’t really see him.” Diedra was trying to be cool, but her hands were visibly shaking.
“Okay, well, that’s all the questions I’ve got for you. If you think of anything else that might help us catch him, here’s my card.” She handed the girl one of her business cards and then stood. “And thanks again. I appreciate it.”
“You’re welcome.”
“You take care.”
“Yes, ma’am. Thank you.”
Samara turned when she got to her car and looked. The girl had closed and locked the door instantly as she’d walked out of it. She almost felt like there was no point in talking to the other five women, but every one of them that she interviewed might get her closer to some kind of evidence that would put him away.
With another look at her watch, she decided to go to a third victim’s home to interview her. It was still early in the afternoon and Michael was going with Carter and the guy from Texas later. She shot Michael a quick text.
Two down, five to go.
Three little dots wiggled, and then her phone pinged.
How’d it go?
Samara rolled her eyes.
Same old same old.