Page 91 of Counter Attack

“Such a sweet boy. And so misunderstood.” Ms. Mattie shook her head. “But that’s not what you were asking about. I’m sure I knew him better than anyone around here—no one knows anything about anyone nowadays, which I’m sure you’ve discovered if you’ve talked to anyone in the building.”

She glanced down the street. When she turned her attention back to Alex, her eyes glistened. “It’s not like it was when I was the age of most of these young people around here. Those days everyone helped each other out. Now they call it meddling or being nosy.”

“Tell me about Phillip,” Alex said, directing the conversation back to her subject.

“He’d had a hard life and had just moved to Chattanooga when I met him almost five years ago.”

“Do you know where he came from?”

“He never would discuss that.”

“Did he ever talk about his life before he moved here? Did he have family in the area?”

“He wouldn’t discuss that either.”

“Then how do you know he had a hard life?” Alex forced herself not to sound irritated.

“You could see it in his eyes.” Ms. Mattie rubbed her arthritic fingers over the rubber handle grips, lost in thought. Then she took a quick breath. “You asked about family. I think he had a sister. I never saw her, but I know she came sometimes because he would tell me.”

If he wasn’t fabricating a sibling. “Have you seen or heard anyone at his condo recently?”

“The real estate company sends someone over every couple of weeks to check on the condo.”

“Was anyone there this week?”

“Oh yes, and I thought it was odd that someone would come on Sunday,” Ms. Mattie said. “I’d never seen this agentbefore, and when I asked if that’s what she was doing in Phillip’s condo, she said yes.”

Now they were getting somewhere. “Could you describe her?”

The older woman’s shoulders sagged. “I don’t know ... it was dark in the hallway, and I don’t see as good as I used to.”

“Was she tall? Skinny? Blond?” Alex tried not to sound impatient.

“Not tall. And not blond—I know that. It’d been raining, and Ithinkshe had on one of those ... you know, a thing that covers you all over...”

“A poncho?”

“Yes.” She smiled big like Alex had answered the $64,000 question. Then she palmed her hands. “So I couldn’t tell if she was skinny or fat.”

“Have you seen anyone else over there? Like maybe a man?” Alex thought they were most likely looking at a man being the serial killer or bomb maker.

Ms. Mattie scratched the back of her neck. “I think the last time the real estate company showed it was to a man.” She wiggled her brows. “Good lookin’ man too.”

“Oh? How long ago was this?”

“Not last week, maybe the week before? The agent knocked on my door to ask what my utility bill usually runs. He and the prospective buyer came in while I looked for some of my old bills, and he was so nice. I hope whatever is going on doesn’t stop him from buying it.”

“Do you know what his name is? Or the real estate agent’s?”

“Oh, honey, I don’t remember my name half the time, much less someone’s name from a week ago.”

The real estate company should be able to give her the name. They both turned as Carl approached. “We’re about to let everyone back in, if you’d like to get this young lady to her condo first.”

“Thanks, I will.” She turned to the older woman. “Ms. Mattie ... what’s your last name, anyway?”

“Proctor. Mattie Proctor, but most people call me by my first name.”

“It’s a pretty name. Let’s get you upstairs before it gets crowded.”

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