Chapter 14

“Ah, I see. You, Mr. Johnson?”

“I was on my way back here when I was on the phone with Jason. I have finals too, so I did what he did. I think we were both in bed by, like, midnight.”

“Ah. Is there anything about last night that you may have forgotten to tell me, Mr. Long?”

“Like I said, the first I knew anything was wrong was when I heard them. I looked where the scream came from and saw the girl on the ground and the guy running away.”

“And you told your roommate that on the phone before you called 911.”

“Yes. I hung up on him, yelled to the girl, and called the cops.”

“Ah. Where were you, Mr. Johnson, when you were on the phone with Mr. Long?”

“In my car, like I told you. I use Bluetooth so I can talk.”

“Yes, you mentioned that. What I’m asking is where you were going.”

“Back to the apartment here. I said that before too.”

“Right. Where had you been?”

“Out driving around. I do that sometimes, don’t you?”

“No, not unless I’m working, anyway. Were you near the campus when Mr. Long called you?”

I tried not to cringe. Would Matt come up with a convincing lie?

“Actually, I was. I went out in the country for a drive and was comin’ back. I guess I mighta been a couple miles from here when Jason said there was somethin’ was goin’ down. Then he got off the phone with me to call you. That’s all I knew until he got back here and told me the rest.”

“Ah. So you were on the phone with him for several minutes before that.”

“Not sure how long, but yeah.”

“What were you talking about?”

“Stuff.”

“‘Stuff,’ Mr. Johnson?”

“Guy stuff, ya know? Final exams, going out drinkin’ after finals are over, semester break, that kinda shit.”

“Do either of you know the girl who was attacked?”

“The first time I spoke to her was last night, detectives,” I said. “The only way I know her name is from you guys.”

“Jason told me her name,” Matt offered. “Mandy Summers, right?”

Det. Davis nodded.

“I think she was in a freshman history lecture with me, but I’m not sure I even said ‘hi’ to her since.”

Davis flipped to a clean page on his notepad. “Mr. Long, is there anything more you can think of to tell us about the attacker?”

“Like I said, big guy, maybe six-four, stocky, dark clothes, red hair.”

Det. Martinez pulled up a report on her screen. “You told 911 and Lt. Davis he wore a hoodie. How do you know he had red hair?”

“Well, he had a red beard.”

“Mr. Long,” Davis said, “when I was your age my whiskers were dark brown. Before they turned gray they turned red. I used to have dark brown scalp hair before it turned gray. There was never any red in it. Is red hair on the suspect another of your assumptions?”